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OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 


"For  History  of  Times  repreaenteth  the 
magnitude  of  actions  and  the  public  faces 
and  deportments  of  persons,  and  passeth 
over  in  silence  the  smaller  passages  and  mo- 
tions of  'men  and  matters.'  " 

—Francis  Bacon 


BRIGADIER-GENERAL 
CHRISTOPHER  BIRDWOOD  THOMSON 

General  Thomison  conies  of  an  English  family  of  sol- 
diers. He  is  about  forty-five  years  old,  and  has  a  career 
of  active  service  behind  him,  having  served  as  subaltern 
four  years  in  the  Boer  War,  then  having  passed  the 
Staff-College,  and  subsequently  having  been  employed 
by  the  War  Office  in  Balkan  service. 

At  the  very  beginning  of  the  Great  War  he  was  en- 
gaged in  Staff  work  at  the  French  front,  and  in  1915  to 
1917  was  the  British  military  representative  in  the 
Balkans.  In  the  Palestine  campaign  he  saw  active  ser- 
vice in  the  field  until  the  occupation  of  Jerusalem. 

When  the  Supreme  War  Council  was  convened  at 
Versailles,  Thomson  was  recalled  and  was  attached  as 
British  Military  Representative  in  1918  remaining  until 
the  conclusion  of  its  peace  negotiations.  In  1919  he 
retired  with  rank  of  Brigadier  General — Royal  Engi- 
neers. 

He  has  now  entered  the  field  of  politics  as  a  member 
of  the  Labour  Party  and  is  the  selected  candidate  for 
Parliament,  standing  for  Central  Bristol.  He  was  a 
member  of  the  Labour  Party  comjmission  which  recently 
visited  Ireland;  and  his  services  in  the  intensive  cam- 
paign work  of  the  Labour  Party  in  Great  Britain  have 
occupied  the  past  year. 


PETROCRAD 


PEACE 

TREATIES" 

-.      1919     ._ 

WORLD  WAR 

-      I9K-J9I8 

PEACE  OF  BUCHAREST 
— ~'-^~~^— -       I9I3    __^__  .    , 
-BALANCE  OF  POWER  IN  EUROPE 


M 


,-  PAN- 

oUte      GERMANISM 


NEc^g^ 


PAN- 
SLAVISM 


SERVIA 


MACEDONIA 


BULGARIA 


.v7 


THE  PYRAMID  OF  ERRORS 


OLD  EUROPE'S 
SUICIDE 

OR 

THE    BUILDING    OF    A    PYRAMID 
OF    ERRORS 

An  account  of  certain  events  in  Europe  during 
the  Period  1912-1919 


By 

BRIGADIER-GENERAL 

CHRISTOPHER  BIRDWOOD  THOMSON 


W 


New  York 

THOMAS  SELTZER 

1922 


63333 


Copyright,  1922,  by 
THOMAS  SELTZER,  Inc. 


All  Rights  Reserved 


X) 


DEDICATION 

THIS  BOOK  IS  DEDICATED  TO  ONE 
I  HAVE  ALWAYS  CALLED 

**  La  Belle  Sagesse," 

who  greatly 

loves  her  country  and  her 

garden  by 

The   "Sleeping  Waters." 


PREFACE 

This  book  is  a  retrospect  covering  the  period  1912- 

1919.     It  begins  with  the  first  Balkan  War,  and  ends 

with  the  Peace  Conference  at  Paris.     Many  of  the  events 

described  have  been  dealt  with  by  other  writers,  and  the 

^.      only  justification  for  adding  one  more  volume  to  an  al- 

'^    ready  well-stocked  library,  is  that  the  author  was  an 

^      eye-witness  of  all  that  he  relates  and  enjoyed  peculiar 

opportunities  for  studying  the  situation  as  a  whole.     To 

impressions  derived  from  personal  contact  with  many  of 

V        the  principal  actors  in  this  world-drama  has  been  added 

^      the  easy  wisdom  which  comes  after  the  event.    With 

o^.      these  Qualifications  a  conscientious  effort  has  been  made 

to  arrange  the  subject  matter  in  proper  sequence  and  to 

establish  some  comiection  between  cause  and  effect — 

not  with  a  view  to  carping  criticism,  but  rather  to  stress 

the  more  obvious  errors  of  the  past  and  glean  from  them 

V      some  guidance  for  the  future. 

t         It  would  be  a  rash  statement  to  say  that  a  European 
^     conflagration  was  the  inevitable  outcome  of  a  little  Bal- 
A     kan  War,  but  metaphor  will  not  be  strained  by  compar- 
^     ing  that  same  little  war  to  a  spark  in  close  proximity  to 
(P     a  heap  of  combustible  material,  a  spark  fanned  in  secret 
by  ambitious  and  unscrupulous  men,  while  others  stood 
by,  and,  either  from  ignorance  or  indifference,  did  noth- 
ing to  prevent  an  inevitable  and  incalculable  disaster. 
That,  as  the  present  writer  sees  it,  is  the  parable  of  the 

ix 


X  PREFACE 

Balkan  "Wars.  And  so  in  the  first  part  of  this  book, 
which  deals  with  the  period  1912-1914,  the  selfish  in- 
trigues of  the  Central  Empires  are  contrasted  with  the 
equally  vicious  proceedings  of  the  Imperial  Russian 
Government,  with  the  ignorance  and  inertia  which  char- 
acterized Great  Britain's  Continental  policy  and  with 
the  vacillations  of  the  Latin  States.  In  later  chapters, 
comments  are  made  on  the  diplomatic  negotiations  with 
the  neutral  Balkan  States  in  1915  and  1916,  on  the  con- 
duct of  the  war  and  on  the  Treaty  signed  June  28, 
1919,  in  the  Palace  at  Versailles. 

The  title  refers  to  the  downfall  of  the  Central 
Empires,  which  were  the  last  strongholds  of  the  aristo- 
cratic traditions  of  Old  Europe,  both  from  a  social  and 
a  political  point  of  view.  It  is  submitted  that  these 
Empires  perished  prematurely  through  the  suicidal  folly 
of  their  ruling  classes.  Under  wiser  statesmanship, 
their  autocratic  governmental  system  might  have  sur- 
vived another  century.  Germany  and  Austria-Hungary 
were  prosperous  States,  and  were  assured  of  still  greater 
prosperity  if  events  had  pursued  their  normal  course. 
But  pride,  ambition,  impatience  and  an  overweening 
confidence  in  efficiency  without  idealism  destroyed  their 
plans.  They  put  their  faith  in  Force,  mere  brutal 
Force,  and  hoped  to  achieve  more  rapidly  by  conquest  a 
commercial  and  political  predominance  which,  by  wait- 
ing a  few  years,  they  could  have  acquired  without  blood- 
shed. In  the  end,  the  military  weapon  they  had  forged 
became  the  instrument  of  their  own  destruction.  Too 
much  was  demanded  from  the  warlike  German  tribes; 
an  industrial  age  had  made  war  an  affair  of  workshops, 
and  against  them  were  arrayed  all  the  resources  of 
Great  Britain  and  America.     Blind  to  these  patent  facts, 


PREFACE  xi 

a  few  reckless  militarists  who  held  the  reins  of  power 
goaded  a  docile  people  on  to  desperate  and  unavailing 
efforts,  long  after  all  hope  of  victory  had  vanished,  and 
thus  committed  suicide  as  a  despairing  warrior  does  who 
falls  upon  his  sword. 

The  Prussian  military  system  collapsed  in  the  throes 
of  revolution  and  the  rest  of  Europe  breathed  again. 
Materialism  in  its  most  efficient  form  had  failed,  and  to 
peoples  bearing  the  intolerable  burden  imposed  by  arma- 
ments came  a  new  hope.  Unfortunately,  that  hope  was 
vain.  With  the  cessation  of  hostilities,  the  suicide  of 
Old  Europe  was  not  completely  consummated.  After 
the  signing  of  the  Armistice,  enlightened  opinion,  though 
undoubtedly  disconcerted  by  the  rapid  march  of  events, 
expected  from  the  sudden  downfall  of  the  Central 
Empires  a  swift  transition  from  the  old  order  to  the  new. 
The  expectation  was  not  unreasonable  that  four  years  of 
wasteful,  mad  destruction  would  be  a  lesson  to  mankind 
and,  in  a  figurative  sense,  would  form  the  apex  of  a 
pyramid  of  errors — a  pyramid  rising  from  a  broad  base 
of  primitive  emotions,  through  secret  stages  of  artifice 
and  intrigue,  and  culminating  in  a  point  on  which  noth- 
ing could  be  built.  A  gloomy  monument,  indeed,  and 
useless — save  as  a  habitation  for  the  dead. 

In  an  evil  hour  for  civilization,  the  delegates  who  met 
to  make  the  Peace  in  Paris  preferred  the  prospect  of  im- 
mediate gain  to  laying  the  foundation  of  a  new  and  bet- 
ter world.  They,  and  the  experts  who  advised  them, 
saw  in  the  pyramid  of  errors  a  familiar  structure,  though 
incomplete.  Its  completion  demanded  neither  vision, 
nor  courage,  nor  originality  of  thought ;  precedent  was 
their  only  guide  in  framing  Treaties  which  crowned  the 
errors  of  the  past  and  placed  its  topmost  block. 


xii  PREFACE 

The  chickens  hatched  at  Versailles  are  now  coming 
home  to  roost.  Democracy  has  been  betraj'ed,  our 
boasted  civilization  has  been  exposed  as  a  thin  veneer 
overlaying  the  most  savage  instincts.  Throughout  all 
Europe  a  state  of  moral  anarchy  prevails,  hatred  and  a 
lust  for  vengeance  have  usurped  the  place  not  only  of 
charity  and  decent  conduct  but  also  of  statesmanship 
and  common-sense.  Peoples  mistrust  their  neighbours 
and  their  rulers,  rich  territories  are  unproductive  for 
lack  of  confidence  and  goodwill. 

These  ills  are  moral  and  only  moral  remedies  will  cure 
them.  Force  was  required,  and  has  done  its  work  in 
successfully  resisting  aggression  by  military  states  now 
humbled  and  dismembered.  But  Force  is  a  weapon 
with  a  double  edge,  and  plays  no  part  in  human  progress. 

While  this  book  endeavours  to  draw  some  lessons  from 
the  war  and  from  the  even  more  disastrous  peace,  at  the 
same  time  it  pleads  a  cause.  That  cause  is  Progress,  and 
an  appeal  is  made  to  all  thinking  men  and  women  to 
give  their  attention  to  these  urgent  international  affairs, 
which  affect  not  only  their  prosperity,  but  their  honour 
as  citizens  of  civilized  States.  The  first  step  in  this  di- 
rection is  to  inform  ourselves.  If,  in  the  following 
pages,  a  little  light  is  thrown  on  what  was  before  ob- 
scure, the  writer  will  feel  that  his  toil  in  the  execution  of 
an  unaccustomed  task  has  been  rewarded. 

C.  W.  Thomson 

London. 

December  6,  1921. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface xi 

CHAPTER 

I.     A  Day  on  the  Danube 1 

II.     Belgrade — October,    1912:    A    View    from    a 

Window        10 

III.  Tpie  Battle  of  Kumanovo 20 

IV.  Macedonia— 1912        35 

V.     Albania— 1912-1913 49 

VI.     The  Second  Balkan  War  and  the  Treaty  op 

Bucharest 59 

VII.     Two  Men  Who  Died 69 

VIII.     "1014"  Peace  and  War 74 

IX.  The   Neutral  Balkan    States — 1915      ...     84 

X.     Sleeping  Waters 99 

XI.  The   Disaster   in   Rumania— 1916      .      .      .      .108 

XII.     The   Russian  Revolution   and  the  Russo-Ru- 

manian    Offensive — ^1917 127 

XIII.     A   Midnight   Mass 143 

XIV.  "Westerners"    and   "Easterners"     ....  147 

XV.  The  Peace  Conference  at  Paris — 1919  .     .      ,  161 

XVI.  Looking  Back  and  Looking  Forward  .     .     .  177 


OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

CHAPTER  I 
A  Day  On  The  Danube 

"When  the  snows  melt  there  will  be  war  in  the 
Balkans,"  had  become  an  habitual  formula  in  the  For- 
eign Offices  of  Europe  during  the  first  decade  of  the 
twentieth  century.  Statesmen  and  diplomats  found 
comfort  in  this  prophecy  on  their  return  from  cures  at 
different  Continental  spas,  because,  the  season  being 
autumn,  the  snow  had  still  to  fall,  and  would  not  melt 
for  at  least  six  months.  This  annual  breathing  space 
was  welcome  after  the  anxieties  of  spring  and  summer; 
the  inevitable  war  could  be  discussed  calmly  and  dis- 
passionately, preparations  for  its  conduct  could  be  made 
methodically,  and  brave  words  could  be  bandied  freely 
in  autumn  in  the  Balkans.  Only  an  imminent  danger 
inspires  fear;  hope  has  no  time  limit,  the  most  unimag- 
inative person  can  hope  for  the  impossible  twenty  years 
ahead. 

"Without  regard  either  for  prophecies  or  the  near  ap- 
proach of  winter,  Bulgaria,  Servia,  Greece  and  Monte- 
negro declared  war  on  Turkey  at  the  beginning  of  Octo- 
ber, 1912.  The  Balkan  Bloc  had  been  formed,  and  did 
not  include  Rumania,  a  land  where  plenty  had  need  of 
peace;  King  Charles  was  resolutely  opposed  to  partici- 
pation in  the  war,  he  disdained  a  mere  Balkan  alliance 
as  unworthy  of  the  "Sentinel  of  the  Near  East." 

Bukarest  had,  for  the  moment  anyhow,  lost  interest; 

1 


2  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

my  work  there  was  completed,  and  a  telegram  from 
Loudon  instructed  me  to  proceed  to  Belgrade.  The 
trains  via  Budapest  being  overcrowded,  I  decided  on 
the  Danube  route,  and  left  by  the  night  train  for  Or- 
sova,  in  company  with  a  number  of  journalists  and  busi- 
ness men  from  all  parts  of  Rumania.  We  reached  the 
port  of  the  Iron  Gate  before  dawn,  and  found  a  Hun- 
garian steamer  waiting;  soon  after  daybreak  we  were 
heading  up  stream. 

Behind  us  lay  the  Iron  Gate,  its  gloom  as  yet  uncon- 
quered  by  the  sunrise;  on  our  left  the  mountains  of 
North-E astern  Servia  rose  like  a  rampart ;  on  our  right 
the  foothills  of  the  Carpathians  terminated  abruptly  at 
the  river's  edge;  in  front  the  Danube  shimmered  with 
soft  and  ever-changing  lights;  a  stillness  reigned  which 
no  one  cared  to  break,  even  the  crew  spoke  low,  like 
pious  travellers  before  a  shrine.  War's  alarms  seemed 
infinitely  distant  from  those  glistening  waters  set  in 
an  amphitheatre  of  hills. 

*'How  can  man,  being  happy,  still  keep  his  happy 
hour?"  The  pageant  of  dawn  and  river  and  mountain 
faded  as  the  sun  rose  higher;  dim  outlines  became  hard 
and  sharp;  the  Iron  Gate,  surmounted  by  eddying 
wisps  of  mist,  looked  like  a  giant  cauldron.  The  pas§ 
broadened  with  our  westward  progress  revealing  the 
plain  of  Southern  Hungary,  low  hills  replaced  the  moun- 
tains on  the  Servian  bank.  A  bell  rang  as  we  stopped 
at  a  small  river  port,  it  announced  breakfast  and  re- 
minded us,  incidentally,  that  stuffy  smells  are  insep- 
arable from  human  activities,  even  on  the  Danube,  and 
within  sight  of  the  blue  mountains  of  Transylvania. 

My  travelling  companions  were  mainly  British  and 
French,  with  a  sprinkling  of  Austrians  and  Italians. 


A  DAY  ON  THE  DANUBE  3 

To  all  of  them  the  latest  development  in  the  Balkan 
situation  was  of  absorbing  interest,  and  they  discussed 
it  incessantly  from  every  point  of  view.  Their  atti- 
tude, as  I  learnt  later,  was  typical,  not  one  of  them 
had  failed  to  foresee  everything  that  had  happened; 
in  the  case  of  the  more  mysterious  mannered,  one  had 
a  vague  impression  that  they  had  planned  the  whole 
business,  and  were  awaiting  results  like  rival  trainers 
of  racehorses  on  the  eve  of  a  great  race.  These  citizens 
of  the  Great  Powers  were,  in  their  commerce  with  the 
Balkan  peoples,  a  curious  mixture  of  patron  and  parti- 
san. The  right  to  patronize  was,  in  their  opinion,  con- 
ferred by  the  fact  of  belonging  to  a  big  country;  the 
partisan  spirit  had  been  developed  after  a  short  resi- 
dence in  the  Peninsula.  This  spirit  was  perhaps  based 
on  genuine  good  will  and  sincere  sympathy,  but  it  cer- 
tainly was  not  wholly  disinterested.  There  was  no  rea- 
son why  it  should  have  been.  No  man  can,  simultan- 
eously, be  a  good  citizen  of  two  countries ;  he  will  nearly 
always  make  money  in  one  and  spend  it  in  the  other. 
Patriotism  is  made  to  cover  a  multitude  of  sins,  and, 
where  money  is  being  made,  the  acid  test  of  political 
m-ofessions  is  their  effect  on  business. 
(  Listening  to  the  conversation  on  the  steamer  I  was 
astonished  by  the  vivacity  with  which  these  self- 
appointed  champions  urged  and  disputed  the  territorial 
claims  of  each  Balkan  State  in  turn.  )  Remote  historical 
precedents  were  dragged  in  to  justify  the  most  extrava- 
gant extension  of  territory,  secret  treaties  were  hinted 
at  which  would  change  the  nationality  of  millions  of 
peasants,  and  whole  campaigns  were  mapped  out  with 
a  knowledge  of  geography  which,  to  any  one  fresh  from 
official  circles  in  London,  was  amazing. 


4  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

From  breakfast  on,  the  babel  of  voices  continued, 
and  it  was  curious  to  note  how  the  different  nationali- 
ties grouped  themselves.  The  British  were,  almost  to 
a  man,  pro-Bulgar,  they  wanted  Bulgaria  to  have  the 
greater  part  of  Macedonia  and  Thrace,  some  of  them 
even  claimed  Constantinople  and  Salonika  for  their 
proteges;  they  were  on  the  whole  optimistic  as  to  the 
success  of  the  Allies.  The  French  and  Italians  urged 
the  claims  of  Servia,  Greece  and  Rumania  in  Macedonia ; 
in  regard  to  Albania  the  French  were  in  favour  of  divid- 
ing that  country  between  Servia  and  Greece,  but  this 
latter  suggestion  provoked  vehement  protests  from  the 
Italians.  The  three  Austrians  hardly  joined  in  the  dis- 
cussion at  all,  one  of  them  remarked  that  he  agreed 
with  the  writer  of  the  leading  article  in  the  Ne%ie  Freie 
Presse  of  a  few  days  back,  who  compared  the  Balkan 
Peninsula  to  a  certain  suburb  of  Berlin,  where  there  was 
one  bank  too  many,  and  where,  as  a  consequence,  all 
banks  suffered.  In  the  Balkan  Peninsula,  according  to 
this  writer,  there  was  one  country  too  many,  and  a 
settled  state  of  affairs  was  impossible  until  one  of  them 
had  been  eliminated;  he  didn't  say  which. 

I  asked  whether  a  definite  partition  of  the  territory 
to  be  conquered  was  not  laid  down  in  the  Treaty  of 
Alliance.  No  one  knew  or,  at  least,  no  one  cared  to 
say.  There  seemed  to  be  a  general  feeling  that  Treaties 
didn't  matter.  The  journalists  were  in  a  seventh  heaven 
of  satisfaction  at  the  prospect  of  unlimited  copy  for  sev- 
eral months  to  come;  the  business  men  expected  to  in- 
crease their  business  if  all  went  well.  On  that  Danube 
steamer  the  war  of  1912  was  popular,  the  future 
might  be  uncertain,  but  it  was  full  of  pleasant  possi- 
bilities. 


A  DAY  ON  THE  DANUBE  5 

I  thought  of  London  and  remembered  conversations 
there  three  weeks  before  the  declaration  of  war.  The 
general  opinion  might  have  been  summarized  as  fol- 
lows :  The  Bulgars  were  a  hardy,  frugal  race,  rather  like 
the  Scotch,  and,  therefore,  sympathetic ;  they  were  ruled 
over  by  a  king  called  Ferdinand,  who  was  too  clever 
to  be  quite  respectable.  As  for  Servia,  the  British  con- 
science had,  of  course,  been  deeply  shocked  by  the  mur- 
der of  the  late  King,  and  the  Servian  Government  had 
been  stood  in  the  diplomatic  comer  for  some  years,  but 
the  crime  had  been  more  or  less  expiated  by  its  dramatic 
elements  and  the  fact  that  it  had  taught  everybody  a 
little  geography.  King  Nicholas  of  Montenegro  was  a 
picturesque  figure  and  had  an  amiable  habit  of  distri- 
buting decorations.  In  regard  to  Greece,  there  were 
dynastic  reasons  why  we  should  be  well  disposed  to- 
wards the  descendants  of  the  men  who  fought  at  Mara- 
thon, not  to  mention  the  presence  in  our  midst  of  finan- 
cial magnates  with  unmistakably  Greek  names.  Lastly, 
the  Turks.  In  London,  in  1912,  these  people  enjoyed 
considerable  popularity;  they  were  considered  the  only 
gentlemen  in  the  Balkans,  the  upper-class  ones  of  course. 
Admittedly  Turkish  administration  was  corrupt  and  the 
Turks  had  a  distressing  habit  of  cutting  down  trees 
everywhere,  but  their  most  serious  defect  was  that  they 
were  a  little  sticky  about  affording  facilities  for  Western 
enterprise.  This  latter  consideration  was  considered 
really  important.  Matters  would  improve,  it  was 
thought,  after  some  changes  had  been  made  in  the  Con- 
sular Service. 

The  war  had  come  at  last.  Few  people  in  England 
knew  its  cause  or  its  objects;  many  thought  and  hoped 
the  Turks  would  win.    We  had  played  the  part  of  stem 


6  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

moralists  when  a  debauched  and  tyrannical  youth  re- 
ceived summary  justice  at  the  hands  of  his  outraged 
subjects,  but  we  watched  lightheartedly  the  preparations 
for  a  struggle  which  would  soak  the  whole  Balkan  Pen- 
insula in  blood. 

Night  was  falling  as  we  passed  under  the  walls  of 
the  old  fortress  of  Belgrade.  During  the  last  hour  the 
conversation  had  taken  a  purely  business  turn  about 
coal  concessions  in  the  Ergene  Valley  ^  and  a  French 
company  which  was  being  formed  to  exploit  Uskub. 
Both  localities  were  in  Turkish  territory,  but  would 
change  their  nationality  after  the  war,  if  the  Balkan 
Allies  were  the  victors. 

The  steamer  ran  alongside  the  jetty;  the  journey 
was,  for  most  of  us,  at  an  end.  Every  one  was  in  high 
spirits;  the  near  prospect  of  dinner  in  an  hotel  had 
produced  a  general  feeling  of  optimism  in  regard  to  the 
Near  Eastern  question.  One  felt  it  wouldn't  be  the 
fault  of  any  one  on  our  steamer  if  things  went  wrong. 
Our  advice  would  always  be  given  gladly  and  ungrudg- 
ingl}^,  and  we  would  accept  any  responsibility  except 
that  of  putting  into  execution  our  own  plans.  We  con- 
sidered we  were  playing  quite  an  important  part  in  the 
Balkan  drama,  but,  belonging  as  we  did  to  big  coun- 
tries or  Great  Powers,  once  the  fighting  began  we  were 
forced  to  stand  aside. 

Belgrade  seemed  half  asleep  already.  The  city  is 
built  on  a  ridge  overlooking  the  junction  of  the  Save 
with  the  Danube.  From  the  quay  a  long  line  of  white 
houses  was  visible,  flanked  at  one  end  by  the  Cathedral 
and  a  dark  ma.ss  of  trees,  at  the  other  by  a  large,  ugly 
building,  behind  which  stands  the  Royal  Palace.     Lights 

Hf-'^ -w~  -  — -  ■  -    ■  ■       -   " 

1  The  Ergene  Is  a  tributary  of  the  Maritza  and  lies  in  Turkish  Thrace. 


A  DAY  ON  THE  DANUBE  7 

were  few  and  far  between,  the  aspect  of  the  town  was 
cold  and  inhospitable,  it  was  evidently  no  busy  centre 
eajrer  to  swallow  up  travellers  and  take  their  money. 
The  Servian  capital  has  nothing  to  offer  to  pleasure  seek- 
ers, and  sightseers  must  be  content  with  scenery.  Across 
the  river,  half  a  mile  away,  the  lights  of  the  Semlin  cast 
a  glare  upon  the  sky,  one  could  even  hear  faintly  the 
strains  of  a  Hungarian  military  band. 

Only  three  of  my  fellow  travellers  remained  on  the 
landing  stage ;  they  were  Austrians.  Two  of  them  were 
going  to  Semlin  in  the  steamer,  the  third  was,  like  myself, 
waiting  for  his  baggage  to  be  disembarked.  This  man 
and  I  were  to  see  a  good  deal  of  each  other  during  the 
months  that  followed;  he  was  the  Austrian  Military 
Attache  at  Belgrade. 

The  steamer  whistle  gave  the  signal  for  departure 
and  fareweDs  were  exchanged.  Just  before  stepping 
on  board,  one  of  the  departing  Austrians  said,  "Well, 
Otto,  when  next  we  meet  I  suppose  the  Turks  will  be 
here,"  to  which  the  military  representative  of  the  Dual 
Monarchy  replied,  "The  sooner  the  better."  He  then 
got  into  his  cab  and  drove  off  to  the  house  where,  for 
three  years,  he  had  enjoyed  all  the  privileges  due  to  his 
diplomatic  functions. 

I  had  spent  the  whole  day  with  a  crowd  of  talkative 
and  communicative  men,  but,  as  a  rickety  old  cab  took 
me  up  the  hill  towards  the  town,  I  remembered  more 
distinctly  what  the  comparatively  silent  Austrians  had 
said  than  anything  else  that  I  had  heard.  These  men 
seemed  to  mix  up  private  business  and  politics  less  than 
the  others;  they  gave  the  impression  of  thinking  on  big 
lines,  of  representing  a  policy  of  some  sort. 

In  October,  1912,  many  people  still  believed  that  the 


8  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

British  Govemment  had  a  Balkan  policy.  The  war  had 
been  foreseen  for  so  many  years,  its  repercussion  on  Asia 
Minor  and  the  whole  Mohammedan  world  could  hardly 
fail  to  be  considerable,  while  the  risk  of  the  conflagration 
spreading,  so  as  to  involve  all  Europe,  was  universally 
recognized.  Under  such  circumstances,  it  seemed  incred- 
ible that  those  responsible  for  the  maintenance  of  the 
British  Empire  would  leave  anything  to  chance.  Of 
course,  we  British  had  a  policy,  but  personally  I  hadn't 
the  faintest  idea  what  it  was,  nor,  for  the  moment,  could 
I  think  of  any  one  who  had. 

At  last  the  hotel  was  reached.  A  sleepy  ' '  concierge ' ' 
showed  me  to  my  room,  a  vast  apartment  whose  out- 
standing feature  was  its  painted  ceiling.  This  work  of 
art  was  oval  in  shape  and  consisted  of  a  vault  of  almost 
inky  blue  spangled  with  stars,  round  which  were  cherubs 
and  angels  in  appropriately  exiguous  costumes.  The 
subject  was  perhaps  meant  to  be  a  celestial  choir,  but 
the  artist  had  somehow  missed  his  mark ;  the  faces  were 
neither  angelic  nor  cherubic;  they  wore  an  air  of  mys- 
tery not  unmingled  with  self-satisfaction.  The  figures 
emerged  in  stiff,  conventional  fashion  from  the  edges  of 
the  ceiling  into  the  central  blue,  and,  if  it  hadn't  been 
for  their  lack  of  dress  and  look  of  conscious  superiority, 
they  might  have  been  a  collection  of  quite  ordinary  men, 
gathered  round  an  oval  table  stained  with  ink.  One  of 
the  cherubs  bore  a  strong  facial  resemblance  to  a  distin- 
guished diplomat  of  my  acquaintance;  he  was  whisper- 
ing something  in  his  neighbour's  ear,  and  the  latter 
seemed  amused.  The  neighbour  was  a  cherub,  not  an 
angel ;  he  had  a  queer,  wizened  face  of  somewhat  Slavonic 
type. 

I  was  tired  out,  but  I  did  not  sleep  well.     I  had  been 


A  DAY  ON  THE  DANUBE  9 

thinking  about  British  policy  in  the  Balkans  before  I 
fell  asleep,  and  had  strange  dreams  which  were  almost 
nightmares.  It  was  all  the  fault  of  the  ceiling;  that 
cherub  was  so  exactly  like  the  diplomat  and  I  dreamed 
he  was  telling  the  other  one  a  secret,  this  explained  the 
whispering,  and  that  it  was  an  important  State  secret, 
connected  with  my  visit  to  Belgrade. 
^  Who  knows?  The  artist  who  had  painted  that  hide- 
ous ceiling  may  have  done  so  in  a  mood  of  irony.  He 
may  have  chosen,  as  models  for  his  cherubs,  some  well- 
known  personages  engaged  in  propping  up  a  crazy  struc- 
ture known  as  ' '  the  balance  of  power  in  Europe,  "a 


CHAPTER  II 

Belgrade — October,  1912 

a  view  from  a  window 

Mobilization  was  nearly  completed  when  I  paid  my 
first  visit  to  the  Servian  War  Office,  an  unpretentious 
building  situated  half  way  down  a  side  street  leading 
from  the  Royal  Palace  to  the  River  Save.  On  enter- 
ing, I  congratulated  myself  that,  at  last,  I  was  to  meet 
and  speak  with  a  real  Servian ;  hitherto  I  had  met  nearly 
every  other  nationality  in  the  legations,  hotels,  and  other 
places  frequented  by  visitors  to  foreign  capitals.  At 
the  time  of  my  visit,  the  only  society  in  Belgrade  con- 
sisted of  foreign  diplomats;  the  hotels  were  managed 
and  staffed  by  Austrians,  Swiss  and  Italians;  the  roads 
were  being  paved  by  an  Austrian  contractor,  employing 
Austrian  workmen  and,  according  to  current  gossip,  the 
country  was  being  ruled  by  the  Russian  Minister. 

Now  that  hostilities  were  imminent,  I  presumed  that 
the  Servians  would  be  allowed  to  do  their  own  fighting. 
This  supposition  proved  to  be  correct,  the  Great  Powers 
had  decided  not  to  interfere  in  what  was  a  purely  Balkan 
struggle,  they  intended  to  keep  the  ring  and  see  fair 
play. 

So  much  I  had  already  learned  in  Belgrade,  from 
people  in  a  position  to  know  and  who  seemed  to  know 
most  things  except  the  authentic  Plan  of  Campaign 
Their  resentment  at  not  being  given  this  was  evident, 

10 


BELGRADE,  OCTOBER,  1912  11 

and  when  asked  the  reason,  they  would  reply  that  they 
wanted  to  communicate  it  to  their  respective  govern- 
ments and  War  Offices,  in  the  strictest  confidence  of 
course.  The  Servian  General  Staff  had  kept  their  secret 
well,  far  too  well  for  the  cosmopolitan  band  who  earned 
their  living  by  acquiring  and  circulating  strictly  confi- 
dential information.  I  did  not  expect  to  solve  the  mys- 
tery myself,  but  the  prospect  of  getting  to  close  quar- 
ters with  its  authors  gave  me  some  satisfaction.  I  had 
begun  to  admire  these  men  one  never  met,  who  didn't 
seem  to  ask  for  advice,  though  they  often  got  it,  and 
who  were  shouldering  the  responsibility  for  Servia's 
future  action. 

After  being  conducted  to  an  upstairs  room,  I  was 

asked  to  wait.  Colonel  (then  followed  two  names 

which  I  didn't  quite  catch,  but  noted  mentally  as  begin- 
ning, respectively,  with  a  "G"  and  a  "P")  begged  to  be 
excused  for  keeping  me  waiting,  but  would  come  as  soon 
as  he  could;  an  unexpected  visitor  had  arrived  whose 
business  was  urgent.  This  information  was  imparted 
by  a  young  staff  officer,  in  excellent  German,  his  mes- 
sage given,  he  left  me  alone  with  some  straight-backed 
chairs,  a  table  with  a  green  baize  cover,  three  pictures, 
and  a  large  bow  window  facing  north. 

The  pictures  were  poor.  One  was  a  portrait  of  King 
Peter,  whose  brilliant  uniform  recalled  a  play  I  had 
seen  just  before  leaving  London.  Another  represented 
a  battle  between  Servians  and  Turks,  dagger  and  axe 
were  being  used  freely,  the  ground  was  strewn  with  dead 
and  wounded,  horsemen  were  riding  over  foe  and  friend 
alike,  some  at  a  dignified  walk,  others  galloping  madly, 
but  all  seemed  equally  indifferent  to  the  feelings  of  the 
men  on  the  ground.    The  meeting  between  Wellington 


12  OLD  EUEOPE'S  SUICIDE   ) 

and  Blucher  after  Waterloo,  as  conceived  by  a  nine- 
teenth-century artist,  was  child's  play  compared  to  this 
battlepiece.  The  third  picture  portrayed  three  horse- 
men in  rich  attire  riding  abreast  along  a  woodland  glade 
followed  by  their  retainers.  The  scene  was  historical; 
it  was  the  last  ride  of  the  centre  horseman,  a  former 
reigning  prince,  whose  companions,  and  incidentally  his 
kinsmen,  had  assassinated  him  in  that  very  glade. 

These  pictures  were  only  too  typical  of  Servia's  past 
history ;  they  explained  the  worn,  anxious  expression  on 
the  old  King's  face  and,  seen  for  the  first  time  on  the 
eve  of  yet  another  war,  gave  food  for  reflection.  Human 
nature  seemed  unchanging  and  unchangeable;  history 
was  about  to  repeat  itself  in  battles  and  murder, 
hatred  and  anger,  suffering  and  death.  Modem  weapons 
would  replace  the  dagger  and  the  ax  and  the  men  on 
horseback  would  be  provided  with  motor  cars:  these 
would  be  the  only  differences. 

It  is  usually  better  to  ride  than  to  walk.  Philosophers, 
as  a  rule,  prefer  the  latter  form  of  progression ;  perhaps 
that  is  why  so  few  of  them  have  been  kings  and  why 
cities  so  seldom  ' '  rest  from  their  evils. ' ' 

My  sole  remaining  distraction  was  the  window.  It 
commanded  a  wide  view  over  the  Save  and  Danube  val- 
leys and  looked  straight  down  on  the  great  railway 
bridge  which  links  Servia  with  Central  Europe.  At  the 
far  end  of  the  bridge  a  Hungarian  sentry  was  clearly 
visible,  and  all  along  the  Save's  Hungarian  bank  were 
earthworks  and  searchlights.  Away  to  the  right,  and 
about  a  mile  distant,  were  the  barracks  of  Semlin; 
rumour  said  they  were  full  to  overflowing. 

Austria-Hungary  was  watching  her  small  Southern 
neighbour  mobilize  and  taking  a  few  precautionary  meas- 


BELGRADE,  OCTOBER,  1912  13 

ures,  in  order,  no  doubt,  to  be  in  a  better  position  to 
keep  the  ring. 

Standing  at  the  open  window  in  that  quiet  room, 
I  felt  I  was  learning  more  about  Serbia's  real  position 
than  could  possibly  have  been  gleaned  from  all  the  talk 
on  the  Danube  steamer.  Perhaps  it  was  the  instinct 
of  an  islander,  but,  as  I  looked  across  the  river,  I  had 
a  feeling  of  vague  uneasiness,  amounting  almost  to 
physical  discomfort ;  an  immensely  greater  force  was 
there,  passive  but  watchful,  and  it  was  so  near,  within 
easy  range  of  field  artillery. 

I  remembered  being  taken  in  my  childhood  to  see  the 
snakes  fed  at  the  Zoo.  Two  monster  reptiles  lay  motion- 
less in  a  glass  case.  Some  live  rabbits  were  inserted,  and 
at  once  began  to  frisk  lightheartedly  round  their  new 
quarters.  Suddenly  one  of  the  reptiles  raised  its  head; 
all  movement  ceased  for  a  brief  moment;  each  rabbit 
crouched,  paralysed  by  terror;  the  dry,  merciless  eyes 
of  the  python  travelled  slowly  round  the  cage,  his  mate 
stirred  expectantly,  and  then !  The  horrid,  darting  jaws 
did  their  work — one  by  one  those  poor  rabbits  disap- 
peared. I  recollected  having  been  especially  sorry  for 
the  last  one.  In  Central  Europe,  at  least  one  python 
State  lay  north  of  the  Danube,  and  to  the  south  were 
rabbit  States,  embarking  on  a  ghastly  frolic. 

Bathed  in  bright  October  sunlight,  the  scene  before 
me  was  both  varied  and  splendid.  The  town  lay  imme- 
diately below,  beyond  it  the  river  and  vast  spaces  framed 
by  mountains,  some  of  them  so  distant  that  their  pres- 
ence was  suspected  rather  than  perceived.  The  line  of 
junction  between  the  Save  and  Danube  was  clearly  de- 
fined, the  white  waters  of  the  former  confounding  them- 
selves reluctantly  with  the  Danube's  steely  blue.     Both 


14  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

rivers  seemed  to  tell  a  story;  the  Save  told  of  moun- 
tains, of  turbulent,  oppressed  peoples  and  their  hopes 
and  fears;  the  Danube  of  plains  and  rich  cities,  of  old 
Europe's  last  triumph  over  Islam,  of  heroes  and  con- 
querors, its  broad  stream  carried  the  echoes  of  Ulm  and 
Ratisbon,  Vienna  and  Buda  Pesth. 

Here,  at  Belgrade,  the  great  river  seemed  to  have 
found  a  new  task — the  task  of  dividing  an  ancient 
empire  with  immemorial  traditions  from  new  States  and 
young  peoples,  who  still  retained  a  bitter  memory  of 
the  Turkish  yoke.  Here  began  a  divided  allegiance,  an 
unnatural  schism  between  the  river's  banks.  It 
was  as  though  the  Save  had  brought  down  trouble  from 
the  mountains ;  the  white  line  of  foam  which  marked  the 
meeting  of  the  waters  was  a  symbol,  a  symbol  of  eternal 
discord  between  the  past  and  present. 

The  door  opened  and  a  short,  thick-set  man  in  the 
uniform  of  a  Colonel  of  the  Servian  General  Staff 
entered  the  room;  he  spoke  in  German,  but  with  some 
difficulty,  and  excused  himself  for  having  kept  me  wait- 
ing. Then  followed  the  usual  commonplaces,  in  which 
he  expressed  his  admiration  for  the  British  character 
and  our  free  institutions,  while  I  assured  him  of  the 
deep  interest  taken  by  all  classes  at  home  in  the  future 
prosperity  and  development  of  Servia. 

I  asked  about  the  mobilization,  and  he  answered  that 
it  had  astonished  even  the  most  optimistic :  98  per  cent, 
of  the  reservists  had  joined  the  colours,  many  of  them 
bringing  carts  and  bullocks  as  free-will  offerings.  The 
declaration  of  war  had  been  received  with  boundless 
enthusiasm  by  the  peasants,  and  volunteers  were  flocking 
in  from  every  part  of  the  kingdom.  The  field  army  was 
well  equipped.    The  question  of  transport  had  presented 


BELGRADE,  OCTOBER,  1912  15 

many  difficulties,  but  had  been  solved  by  ruthlessly  cut- 
ting down  every  human  requirement  to  the  absolute  min- 
imum ;  this  was  possible,  he  explained,  because  the  Serv- 
ian peasant  soldiers  could  live  on  very  little,  but  I  would 
see  for  myself  before  long.  Ammunition  ?  For  the  first 
time  he  hesitated.  Yes,  there  was  enough  for  a  short 
campaign,  if  the  strictest  economy  were  exercised — for 
six  months,  perhaps;  but  it  was  difficult  to  estimate  ex- 
penditure as,  except  for  the  Manchurian  war,  there  were 
no  data  to  go  on.  I  suggested  that  stocks  could  be  re- 
newed. He  flushed  a  little  and  replied  that  most  of 
Servia's  arms  and  ammunition  came  from  Austria. 

Unconsciously,  on  my  part  anyhow,  we  had  moved 
to  the  window,  and  while  the  Colonel  was  talking  I 
noticed  the  almost  uncanny  frequency  with  which  his 
eyes  sought  the  far;  bank  of  the  Save.  Such  restless 
eyes  they  were,  light  grey  in  colour.  One  could  imag- 
ine them  blazing  with  anger,  but  occasionally  one  caught 
a  hunted  look,  as  though  they  had  known  fear.     Colonel 

G P ,  like  most  Servian  officers,  was  of  peasant 

origin.  The  King  himself  was  the  grandson  of  a  swine- 
herd. There  had  been  a  time  in  Servia  when  every  man, 
who  could,  had  transferred  his  family  and  household 
goods  to  what  is  now  called  Montenegro,  so  great  had 
been  their  terror  of  the  Turks.  The  poorer  peasants 
had  remained  and  had  borne  the  tyrant's  yoke;  their 
descendants,  of  either  sex,  retained  the  furtive,  quailing 
glance  of  ancestors  who  had  lived  in  dread.  Even  the 
little  children  had  this  look  of  atavistic  fear. 

The  grey  eyes  softened  when  he  spoke  of  the  peasants, 
their  simplicity,  their  endurance,  and  their  faith  in  ulti- 
mate victory;  his  one  idea  seemed  to  be  to  give  a  fair 
chance  to  these  peasant  soldiers;  to  avoid  political  com- 


16  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

plications  at  home  and  abroad  and,  above  all,  to  get 
the  ammunition  up  to  the  front  line. 

I  looked  instinctively  across  the  river;  the  key  of  the 
whole  situation  was  there.  He  must  have  guessed  my 
thoughts,  for  the  conversation  turned  at  once  to  more 
general  questions.  The  Colonel  was  convinced  that  the 
Great  Powers  would  not  interfere ;  their  neutrality  might 
even  be  benevolent.  He  had  just  received  from  the 
Austrian  Military  Attache  (the  visitor  who  had  kept 
me  waiting)  most  satisfactory  assurances  in  regard  to 
the  supply  of  ammunition.  Belgrade  would  be  entirely 
denuded  of  troops,  as  also  the  whole  northern  frontier. 
This  had  been  rendered  possible  by  the  assurance  that 
there  was  no  danger  of  interference  from  the  North;  a 
Servian  force  would  occupy  the  Sanjak  of  Novi  Bazar! 
He  noted  my  surprise,  and  added  quickly,  "With  the 
full  knowledge  of  the  Austro-Hungarian  Government." 
The  main  army  would  advance  on  Uskub  (he  gave  the 
town  its  Servian  name  of  Skoplje).  On  its  left  would 
be  a  mixed  Serbo-Bulgar  army,  and  on  its  right  the 
Third  Servian  Army  under  one  of  their  best  generals. 
All  the  three  armies  would  converge  on  Uskub,  near 
which  there  would  probably  be  the  first  big  battle. 
Uskub  was  the  first  objective.  He  insisted  that  it  was  a 
genuine  Servian  town.  The  Emperor  Dushan  had  held 
his  Court  there  in  the  great  days  of  old  Servia.  Fur- 
ther south,  lay  Monastir  and  Salonika,  the  real  prizes, 
of  these  he  did  not  speak,  and  I  refrained  from  putting 
inconvenient  questions,  I  had  learned  so  much  already. 

A  chance  reference  to  Serv'ia's  economic  and  indus- 
trial situation  provoked  an  almost  passionate  outburst 
from  this  hitherto  self-contained  man.  Servia  needed 
a  port,  it  was  her  only  means  of  gaining  economic  inde- 


BELGRADE,  OCTOBER,  1912       17 

pendence.  Hitherto,  Austria  had  held  Servia  by  the 
throat,  but  with  an  outlet  to  the  sea  his  country  could 
work  out  its  own  salvation.  He  reeled  off  some  astound- 
ing statistics  in  regard  to  the  population  of  the  eastern 
Adriatic  seaboard  between  Trieste  and  Montenegro.  I 
ventured  to  suggest  that  Austria  would  not  lightly  relax 
her  hold  on  such  valuable  possessions — as  Cattaro,  for 
example.  He  assented,  but  repeated  with  vehemence, 
"  Servia 's  first  economic  objective  must  be  an  Adriatic 
port,"  Durazzo  or  San  Giovanni  di  Medua  would  do — 
to  begin  with.  When  I  enquired  how  it  was  proposed  to 
deal  with  the  Albanians,  an  ugly,  cruel  look  crept  into 
his  face  as  he  hissed  out  a  German  slang  expression  for 
extermination.  The  Albanians  were,  in  his  opinion, 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  thieves  and  murderers  for 
whom  there  was  no  place  in  the  Peninsula. 

I  was  beginning  to  understand.  The  war  about  to 
commence  was  only  the  first  phase;  success  would  give 
to  Servia  sufficient  territory  and  economic  independence 
to  enable  her  to  prepare  for  a  greater  and  inevitable 
struggle  with  Austria-Hungarj'-.  The  pitfalls  were 
many.  No  one  realized  the  difficulties  more  fully  than 
the  man  standing  with  me  at  that  window,  who  was  even 
anxious  to  expose  them  in  his  eagerness  to  gain  a  little 
sympathy.  He  knew  that  wise  and  wary  statesmanship 
would  be  required  in  handling  the  Bulgarian  question. 
The  hot-heads  at  home  would  have  to  be  restrained.  At 
all  costs  peace  with  Bulgaria  would  have  to  be  main- 
tained, and  this  w^ould  be  difficult.  Servia  had  her 
megalomaniacs  who  were  impatient  and  heedless  of  pru- 
dent counsels,  whose  aspirations  in  regard  to  national 
aggrandizement  were  boundless,  who  wanted  to  do  every- 
thing at  once  and  brooked  no  delay. 


18  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

Almost  two  hours  had  passed,  and  it  was  nearly  noon 
when  I  rose  to  say  farewell.  "While  expressing  my  best 
wishes  for  Servia's  success  in  this  first  phase  of  her 
great  adventure,  I  remarked  that,  presumably,  Belgrade 
would  cease  to  be  the  capital  after  Uskub  had  been  taken 
and  the  Albanian  coastline  reached — a  more  central  and 
less  exposed  position  seemed  desirable  for  the  Royal 
residence  and  seat  of  Government.  His  answer  was  em- 
phatic— Belgrade  must  always  remain  the  capital,  the 
Save  was  not  the  northern  frontier  of  old  Servia;  all 
that — and  he  waved  his  hand  towards  the  north — was 
Servian  territory  right  up  to  and  beyond  Karlovci, 
which,  at  one  time,  had  been  in  the  diocese  of  a  Servian 
bishop. 

When  I  left  the  Servian  War  Office  that  day  I  had 
forgotten  all  about  rabbits  and  pythons;  those  dauby 
pictures  portrayed  the  past,  the  future  was  the  only 
thing  that  mattered.  A  passionate  drama  would  shortly 
enact  itself  under  the  eyes  of  a  cynical,  unbelieving 
Europe ;  in  that  drama  Servia  w^ould  play  a  leading  part 
and,  if  Colonel  Gr P was  typical  of  his  country- 
men, the  final  act  would  find  another  setting  than  the 
Balkans.  From  an  open  window  this  man  had  looked 
out  upon  a  spacious  and  inspiring  scene,  had  caught  its 
message,  and,  no  more  a  mere  official  speaking  a  foreign 
tongue,  had  found  the  rugged  eloquence  of  a  true  soldier- 
statesman.  He  might  have  been  a  Servian  Cromwell; 
such  men  are  dangerous  to  their  oppressors. 

An  irresistible  craving  for  quiet  and  solitude  had  over- 
come me.  I  drove  to  a  place  on  the  outskirts  of  Belgrade 
close  to  the  Danube's  bank,  and  walked  down  to  the 
river's  edge  across  flat,  waterlogged  meadows.  At  this 
point,  the  troubled  Save  had  found  peace  in  the  greater 


BELGRADE,  OCTOBER,  1912  19 

stream,  a  mighty  volume  of  water  slid  smoothly  past  the 
sedges,  whispering  mysteriously;  sometimes  the  whisper 
swelled,  and  weed  and  wave,  stirred  by  a  passing  breeze, 
fQled  the  surrounding  space  with  sighing  sounds. 


CHAPTER  III 

The  Battle  of  Kumanovo 

Although  the  Balkan  hloc  of  1912  was  formed  by  men 
whose  motives  were  as  various  as  their  interests  and 
personalities,  it  was  based  on  a  correct  appreciation  of 
the  general  situation.  It  offered  a  prospect  of  relieving 
the  intolerable  tension  which  prevailed  in  the  Balkan 
Peninsula  at  the  expense  of  the  Ottoman  Empire,  an 
Empire  whose  natural  frontier  was  in  Turkish  Thrace,  ^ 
and  whose  administration  in  South-Eastem  Europe  had 
been  both  wasteful  and  tyrannical,  A  continuance  of 
Turkish  sovereignty  in  Macedonia  and  Albania  had  be- 
come an  anachronism.  Justice,  however  wild,  demanded 
the  expulsion  of  the  Turks,  and  all  who  knew  the  history 
of  the  Balkans  approved  the  action  of  the  Allied  States. 

Not  only  did  the  creation  of  this  bloc  bid  fair  to 
provide  a  solution  of  purely  Balkan  questions;  while 
it  lasted  it  could  not  fail  to  have  a  stabilizing  influence 
in  the  "Balance  of  Power"  in  Europe.  From  a  military 
point  of  view,  the  combined  forces  in  Bulgaria,  Servia 
and  Greece  were  a  far  from  negligible  factor ;  they  would 
have  served  both  as  a  buffer  between  Slav  and  Teuton 
and  as  a  deterrent  to  the  ambitions  of  Pan-Germans  and 
Pan-Slavs  alike.  From  this  combination  of  the  Balkan 
States  the  Western  European  Powers  had  everything  to 
gain. 

X  On  the  Encs-Mldla  line,  thus  leaving  Constantinople  In  Turkish 
hands  with  a  small  hinterland  in  Europe. 

20 


THE  BATTLE  OF  KUMANOVO  21 

In  the  autumn  of  1912  an  oligarchy  of  schemers  and 
mediocrities  held  the  reins  of  power  in  Constantinople. 
Their  position  was  precarious,  their  inexperience  great; 
to  a  large  extent  they  were  dependent  on  the  goodwill 
of  the  Great  Powers,  from  whom  they  sought  advice. 
The  advice  given,  though  inspired  by  very  different 
motives,  had  the  same  effect:  it  increased  the  self-satis- 
faction of  the  "Young  Turks"  and  gave  them  a  sense  of 
security  which  was  wholly  unjustified  by  the  circum- 
stances of  the  case. 

Great  Britain  and  France  posed  as  indulgent  friends 
of  the  new  regime  in  Constantinople,  whose  liberal  pro- 
fessions seemed  to  announce  a  moral  convalescence. 
Loans  were  to  be  the  solvent  of  all  difficulties.  Under 
their  quickening  influence  regeneration  and  reform 
would  blossom  in  a  desert  air,  while  interests  and  ideals 
would  march  hand  in  hand.  The  policy  of  the  French 
and  British  Governments  was,  in  essence,  the  main- 
tenance of  the  status  quo.  Both  counselled  moderation 
in  all  things,  with  the  possible  exception  of  concessions 
to  certain  financial  groups.  The  "Young  Turks"  lis- 
tened dutifully,  as  people  do  who  are  looking  for  a 
loan. 

Austro-Hungarian  policy  aimed  at  fomenting  disorder 
in  Macedonia  and  Albania,  with  the  object  of  justifying 
intervention  and  eventually  annexation.  These  two 
Turkish  provinces  were  to  share  the  fate  of  Bosnia  and 
Herzegovina.  Their  acquisition  would  complete  the  eco- 
nomic encirclement  of  Servia  and  reduce  that  country 
to  the  position  of  a  vassal  State.  Behind  Austro-Hun- 
gary  stood  Germany,  whose  communications  with  Asia 
Minor  needed  a  buttress  in  the  Balkans.  The  final  ob- 
ject of  the  Central  Empires  was  the  disintegration  of 


22  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

Turkey  in  Europe.  In  the  autumn  of  1912,  however, 
the  Turkish  plums  were  not  yet  ripe  for  plucking;  a 
few  more  years  of  misrule  were  required.  In  the  mean- 
time, the  Austro-Hungarian  and  German  Governments 
encouraged,  secretly,  the  process  known  as  ' '  Ottomaniza- 
tion"  in  Macedonia  and  Albania,  with  all  its  attendant 
ills.  The  Young  Turks  listened  gladly;  such  advice  ap- 
pealed to  their  natural  and  traditional  instincts. 

At  this  period  the  vision  of  Italian  statesmen  hardly 
extended  beyond  the  Eastern  Adriatic  seaboard.  More- 
over, Italy  was  a  member  of  the  Triple  Alliance  and  held 
a  merely  watching  brief  in  and  around  Constantinople. 

Along  among  the  Great  Powers,  Russia  was  in  close 
touch  with  the  Balkan  situation.  For  some  years  Rus- 
sian diplomats  and  military  agents  had  possessed  pre- 
ponderating influence  in  all  the  Balkan  capitals;  they 
had  appreciated  the  scope  and  intensity  of  the  smoulder- 
ing passions  which,  however  transitorily,  were  to  force 
into  concerted  action  the  Bulgars,  Serbs  and  Greeks; 
they  alone  had  estimated  correctly  the  military  efficiency 
of  the  armies  of  the  Balkan  States  and,  almost  alone, 
they  knew  the  contents  of  the  Secret  Treaty,  signed  in 
February,  1912,  which  brought  into  existence  the  Balkan 
hloc.  Russian  policy  was  definitely  anti-Turk :  it  aimed 
at  the  fulfilment  of  the  testament  of  Peter  the  Great,  at 
the  expulsion  of  the  Turks  from  Europe,  at  the  estab- 
lishment of  Russian  sovereignty  over  the  Bosphorus  and 
the  Golden  Horn.  It  is  an  old  saying  that  diplomatists 
are  paid  to  lie  abroad  for  the  benefit  of  their  countries; 
successive  Russian  ambassadors  at  Constantinople  plied 
the  Sublime  Porte  with  soothing  words;  all  was  for  the 
best  in  the  best  of  all  possible  Turkeys,  while  plots 
matured   and  hostile  armaments  were  perfected.     The 


THE  BATTLE  OF  KUMANOVO  23 

Young  Turks  listened  somewhat  fearfully ;  it  seemed  too 
good  to  be  true,  but  still  they  listened  and  believed. 

False  counsel  reacting  on  inertia  had  an  inevitable 
result ;  the  declaration  of  war  found  the  Ottoman  Empire 
utterly  unprepared.  The  mobilization  of  the  Balkan 
armies  was  completed  with  unexpected  rapidity  and  was 
followed  by  a  simultaneous  invasion  of  Turkey  in  Europe 
by  Bulgarian,  Greek  and  Servian  forces.  The  Bulgars 
crossed  the  frontier  of  Thrace,  without  encountering 
serious  opposition,  and  advanced  towards  the  line 
Adrianople-Kirk-Kilise ;  the  Greeks  entered  Southern 
Macedonia,  where  the  Turkish  garrisons  were  weak  and 
scattered ;  the  Serbs  invaded  the  Vilayet  of  Kossovo  and 
joined  hands  with  the  Montenegrins  in  the  Sanjak  of 
Novibazar.  At  every  point  the  Balkan  armies  had  pene- 
trated into  Turkish  territory.  In  Constantinople  con- 
fusion reigned  supreme ;  disasters  were  exaggerated,  sin- 
ister rumours  passed  from  lip  to  lip,  even  the  shrine 
dedicated  to  the  "Divine  Wisdom"  ^  was  not  considered 
safe. 

The  Russian  Government  looked  on  complacently — its 
plans  were  taking  shape.  In  London  and  Paris  curiosity 
was  more  in  evidence  than  any  emotion  which  might 
have  been  dictated  by  knowledge  or  foresight.  In 
Vienna  and  Berlin  the  news  was  received  with  anger 
and  astonishment ;  better  things  had  been  expected  from 
King  Ferdinand  of  Bulgaria.  The  stubborn  fact  re- 
mained, however,  and  called  for  immediate  action.  A 
German  military  mission  had  for  some  years  directed 
the  training  of  the  Turkish  army;  the  time  had  now 
come  for  that  mission  to  direct  Turkish  strategy.  Events 
had  moved  too  quickly  for  the  cynical,  realistic  policy  of 

1  Santa  Sofia. 


24  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

the  Central  Empires,  but  they  could  be  turned  to  good 
account  if,  at  the  outset  of  the  campaign,  the  Serbs  were 
crushed.  And  so,  while  yielding  ground  in  Thrace  and 
Southern  Macedonia,  the  Turks  massed  troops  at  Uskub, 
and  made  their  plans  for  an  offensive  battle  against  the 
Serbs  advancing  southward  into  Kossovo. 

My  lot  had  been  cast  with  the  Serbian  forces  and,  by 
great  good  fortune,  I  was  able  to  join  the  First  Army 
as  it  poured  through  the  defiles  of  the  Kara  Dagh  into 
the  region  called  "Old  Servia."  At  Belgrade  the  talk 
had  been  of  a  war  of  liberation  from  economic  thraldom, 
of  a  conflict  between  the  Crescent  and  the  Cross;  vsdth 
the  armies  it  was  otherwise.  No  thought  of  policy  or 
secret  treaties,  or  even  of  religion,  confused  the  minds  of 
Servia 's  peasant  soldiers;  they  marched  like  men  called 
to  fulfil  their  country's  destiny,  singing  the  story  of  their 
race,  making  the  mountains  echo  with  their  martial  songs. 
There  was  no  need  to  understand  their  language  to  catch 
the  meaning  of  these  singers;  they  sang  of  sorrow  and 
tribulation,  of  centuries  of  helplessness  in  oppression, 
but  the  note  of  defiance  was  never  absent;  defeat  was 
admitted  but  never  despair.  Something  unconquerable 
was  in  their  hearts,  stirring  their  blood  and  nerving 
every  muscle — the  spirit  of  revenge.  Bacon,  in  his  fa- 
mous essay,  says:  "The  most  tolerable  sort  of  revenge 
is  for  those  wrongs  which  there  is  no  law  to  remedy." 
The  Serbs  had  five  centuries  of  wrongs  to  avenge,  and 
the  Great  Powers  had  produced  no  law  as  a  remedy, 
except  the  law  of  force ;  by  force  these  peasants,  in  their 
turn,  meant  to  obtain  * '  a  kind  of  wild  justice. ' ' 

For  them,  the  plains  of  Kossovo  were  sacred;  there 
had  been  made  the  last  heroic  stand  against  a  cruel  and 
implacable  foe;  there  had  occurred  the  dreadful  rout, 


THE  BATTLE  OF  KUMANOVO  25 

whose  few  survivors  told  the  tale,  at  first  in  frightened 
whispers,  then  in  songs — long,  wailing  songs,  like  dirges. 
Songs  are  the  chronicles  of  Slavonic  races,  they  pass  into 
the  nation's  ritual  and  permeate  its  life.  Succeeding 
generations  sang  these  songs  of  Kossovo,  and  so  the  legend 
grew,  and  spread  to  all  the  Balkan  lands;  each  humble 
home,  even  in  far  Rumania,  had  heard  of  Lazar,  a  Tsar 
who  led  his  people  and  gave  his  life  up  for  them  on  a 
battlefield  known  as  "the  Field  of  Blackbirds."  When 
princes  perish  thus,  servility  conspires  with  pity  to  make 
them  martyrs.  The  dead  Tsar  led  his  people  still,  and 
far  more  potently  in  death  than  life ;  his  legendary  form, 
looming  gigantic  through  the  mists  of  time,  beckoned 
them,  irresistibly,  to  blood-soaked  fields,  where,  once 
again,  the  Turks  and  Serbs  would  meet  in  mortal  strife. 
The  First  Servian  Army,  under  the  command  of  the 
Crown  Prince  Alexander,  had  crossed  the  old  Serbo- 
Turkish  frontier  near  Vranje.  After  two  exhausting 
marches  in  enemy  territory,  the  leading  units,  emerging 
from  the  mountains,  saw  in  front  of  them  an  undulating 
plain ;  in  the  distance  some  minarets,  surmounting  a  col- 
lection of  whitewashed  houses,  stood  out  against  the  sky. 
The  Serbs  were  in  sight  of  Kumanovo,  a  town  situated 
15  miles  north-east  of  Uskub,  on  the  western  fringe  of 
a  vast  stretch  of  pasture  land  bearing  the  local  name  of 
"Ovce  Polje"  or  "Sheepfield."  Running  across  the 
plain,  from  east  to  west,  a  line  of  trenches  was  clearly 
visible;  on  the  railway  track  from  Salonica  many  trains 
were  standing,  from  which  men  descended  and,  after 
forming  into  groups,  moved  outwards  to  the  trenches. 
It  required  no  special  military  acumen  to  appreciate 
the  fact  that  the  Turks  intended  to  make  a  stand  at 
Kumanovo.     The  battlefield  was  flanked  on  the  west  by 


26  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

a  railway  and  on  the  east  by  a  small  river,  an  aflSuent 
of  the  Vardar ;  to  the  north  lay  mountains,  to  the  south 
the  plain  extended  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach. 

Night  was  falling,  in  a  hurricane  of  wind  and  rain, 
when  the  Servian  advanced  guards  reached  the  northern 
limit  of  the  plain  and  began  toi  place  their  outposts. 
During  the  day  there  had  been  skirmishes  with  hostile 
patrols;  every  one  was  soaked  to  the  skin,  and  supplies 
were  a  march  behind.  I  must  have  seen  several  hundred 
infantry  soldiers  take  up  their  appointed  positions  in  a 
cluster  of  stony  kopjes,  which  marked  the  extreme  left 
of  the  Servian  outpost  line,  and  not  a  murmur  of  com- 
plaint or  grumbling  reached  my  ears.  Sometimes  men 
passed  who  muttered  to  themselves.  I  asked  a  Servian 
staff  officer  what  they  were  saying;  he  replied  simply, 
' '  Their  prayers. ' '     And  on  this  note  began  their  vigil. 

All  through  the  night  the  rain-sodden,  wearied  troops 
were  arriving  at  their  bivouacs.  The  front  taken  up  was 
unduly  extended  and,  notably  on  the  extreme  left,  there 
were  many  gaps.  The  dawn  revealed  a  scene  of  desola- 
tion and  considerable  disorder.  Soon  after  sunrise  the 
Turks  attacked. 

Throughout  the  first  day  of  battle  the  Turks  pursued 
offensive  tactics,  attempting  repeatedly  to  turn  the  Ser- 
vian left.  More  than  once  the  situation  on  this  flank 
became  critical.  Reinforcements  arrived  in  driblets  and 
in  an  exhausted  condition ;  they  were  at  once  absorbed 
in  the  fighting  line,  without  regard  for  any  other  con- 
sideration except  the  saving  of  a  local  situation.  Of 
higher  leading  there  was  little,  it  was  just  a  soldier's 
battle — hard,  brutal  fighting,  stubborn  valour  in  the 
front  line,  chaotic  confusion  behind. 

Late  in  the  evening  I  saw  a  small  party  of  horsemen 


THE  BATTLE  OF  KUMANOVO  27 

moving  rapidly  from  battalion  to  battalion  immediately 
behind  the  front  line.  Riding  by  himself,  a  little  in  ad- 
vance of  the  others,  was  a  young  man  with  a  thin,  sallow 
face,  wearing  pince-nez.  He  stopped  frequently  and 
spoke  with  the  officers  and  men.  When  he  had  passed 
on,  they  followed  him  with  their  eyes  and  seemed  to 
move  more  briskly  about  their  business.  To  these  rough 
men  from  all  parts  of  Servia  this  brief  visit  had  a  spe- 
cial interest ;  the  young  man  who  rode  alone  and  in  front 
was  the  Crown  Prince  Alexander,  and  most  of  them 
were  seeing  him  for  the  first  time. 

In  more  senses  than  one  the  Crown  Prince  was  alone 
that  day.  His  exalted  rank  had  conferred  on  him  the 
command  of  an  army;  his  extreme  youth  made  it  hard 
for  him  to  impose  his  will  on  a  staff  of  military  experts. 
At  the  headquarters  of  the  First  Servian  Army  there  was 
the  usual  percentage  of  senior  officers  whose  peace  train- 
ing had  taken  from  them  any  human  or  imaginative  qual- 
ities they  may  ever  have  possessed;  who  regarded  war 
as  a  science,  not  a  drama ;  men  without  elasticity  of  mind, 
eternally  seeking  an  analogy  between  their  own  situation, 
at  any  given  moment,  and  some  vaguely  similar  situation 
in  the  career  of  their  favourite  strategist  (usually  von 
Moltke).  Since  in  war,  at  least,  analogies  are  never 
perfect,  such  men  lack  quick  decision  and,  almost  in- 
variably, they  take  the  line  of  least  resistance. 

During  the  afternoon  preceding  the  evening  visit  of 
the  Crown  Prince  to  his  troops,  several  influential  and 
elderly  officers  had  been  advising  retreat;  they  had 
studied  the  map  carefully,  and  in  their  opinion  no  other 
course  was  left  to  the  Commander  of  the  First  Army. 
All  the  text  books  confirmed  this  view,  and  in  these  books 
were  embodied  the  great  principles  of  strategy.     They 


28  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

pointed  out  to  Prince  Alexander  that  lie  owed  it  to  him- 
self and  his  country  to  retire,  as  soon  as  possible,  to  a 
new  position  and  fight  again  another  day.  They  were 
absolutely  sincere  and  were  convinced  that,  since  the 
Serbian  left  was  in  process  of  being  turned,  all  the  mili- 
tary' experts  would  approve  of  what  might,  euphemistic- 
ally, be  termed  "a  strategic  retirement." 

Many  great  military  reputations  have  been  made  by 
the  skilful  conduct  of  a  retreat  and,  according  to  their 
lights,  the  advocates  of  such  tactics  on  this  occasion  were 
not  far  wrong  in  their  reasoning.  Only  outsiders  judge 
by  results;  military  experts  live  in  a  charmed  and  ex- 
clusive international  circle,  in  which  method  is  every- 
thing. 

The  Crown  Prince  had  a  great  deal  at  stake.  This 
battle  marked  a  turning  point  in  his  life,  and  with  him 
lay  the  final  decision.  He  never  hesitated.  "  Stand  fast 
and  counter-attack  all  along  the  line  at  the  earliest  pos- 
sible moment"  was  the  order  issued,  and  then  this  de- 
scendant of  a  warrior  swineherd  mounted  his  horse  and 
went  to  see  his  soldiers.  Bad  strategy,  perhaps,  but  un- 
derstandable to  the  men  who  were  bearing  the  brunt  of 
the  battle  on  the  "Sheepfield"  of  Northern  Macedonia. 

At  General  Headquarters  Colonel  G P shared 

and  interpreted  the  Crown  Prince's  views.  He  knew  the 
almost  superhuman  powers  of  endurance  of  the  Servian 
peasants,  and  put  his  faith  in  them.  King  Peter  upheld 
his  son's  decision;  reinforcements  and  ammunition  were 
sent  to  the  1st  Army,  on  whose  prowess  depended  the 
future  fate  of  Servia. 

The  second  day  of  battle  dawned  fair,  from  early 
morning  onwards  the  Turkish  assaults  were  launched 
in  rapid  succession,  and  without  regard  for  loss  of  life. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  KUMANOVO  29 

It  was  evident  that  the  Turks  were  making  their  great 
effort  in  this  theatre  of  operations.  By  skilful  manipula- 
tion of  the  Press  the  Bulgars  had  given  the  impression 
that  every  theatre,  except  their  own  in  Thrace,  was 
secondary ;  they  argued  that  the  Turks  would  be  so  terri- 
fied by  the  Bulgarian  threat  to  Constantinople  that  all 
available  forces  would  be  concentrated  for  the  protection 
of  the  Turkish  capital,  and  that  a  purely  defensive  atti- 
tude would  be  maintained  in  Macedonia.  The  facts 
were  all  against  these  suppositions.  The  only  theatre 
in  which  the  Turks  were  acting  offensively  was  Mace- 
donia; in  Thrace,  after  being  completely  surprised  by 
the  Bulgarian  advance,  they  were  in  full  retreat;  in 
Northern  Macedonia  a  plan,  dictated  by  the  Central  Em- 
pires, was  being  put  into  execution,  and  the  destruction 
of  the  1st  Servian  Army  was  its  objective. 

From  prisoners'  statements  the  Turks  appeared  to 
be  certain  of  success,  a  large  force  of  cavalry  under  Ali 
Mechmet  Pasha  was  being  held  in  reserve  south  of  Ku- 
manovo  ready  to  take  up  the  pursuit. 

On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  the  Servian  front 
was  still  unbroken.  During  the  preceding  night  rein- 
forcements had  arrived  from  the  general  reserve,  the 
gaps  in  the  front  line  had  been  filled  up,  and  the  heavy 
artillery  moved  into  position.  The  Turkish  offensive  per- 
sisted throughout  the  day,  but  late  in  the  afternoon  the 
Serbs  made  several  successful  local  counter-attacks. 
After  dark  an  unusually  large  number  of  priests  visited 
the  front  line,  the  men  crowded  round  them  eagerly, 
and  listened  to  their  words. 

At  daybreak,  on  the  fourth  day,  a  large  force  of  Turks 
was  seen  moving  towards  the  Servian  left  flank;  the 
Turkish  commander  was  making  a  last  bid  for  victory. 


30  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

Advancing  in  close  formation  the  attacking  columns  suf- 
fered heavy  losses  from  the  fire  of  some  batteries  of 
howitzers.  On  other  parts  of  the  front  an  ominous  calm 
prevailed.  Servian  soldiers  were  swarming  in  the  ragged 
trenches  which  had  been  thrown  up  during  the  course 
of  the  battle.  Priests  in  their  flowing  black  robes  were 
everywhere. 

Suddenly,  from  the  centre  of  the  Servian  line,  a  salvo 
of  guns  gave  a  signal !  It  was  the  signal  for  the  counter- 
attack. 

Surely,  never  since  Friedland  has  such  a  sight  been 
seen. 

As  though  by  magic  the  space  between  the  Turkish 
trenches  and  the  Servian  front  was  seamed  by  lines  of 
infantry  dashing  recklessly  forward  with  bayonets  fixed. 
Their  onrush  was  irresistible,  the  Turkish  front  was  not 
pierced — it  was  swept  away. 

Within  one  hour  of  that  amazing  charge  the  battle 
of  Kumanovo  was  lost  and  won.  The  Turkish  General's 
last  hope  must  have  disappeared  when  a  well-aimed  refale 
from  a  group  of  Servian  howitzers  threw  the  massed 
squadrons  of  Ali  Mechmet  Pasha  into  hopeless  confusion. 
Hundreds  of  riderless  horses  scoured  the  plain,  and 
through  them,  ever  pressing  forward,  surged  the  grey 
lines  of  Servia's  indomitable  infantry.  The  Turks  were 
not  merely  driven  back,  they  were  routed,  a  rabble  of 
unarmed  men  fled  across  the  plain  to  Uskub  and  spread 
panic  in  the  town;  no  attempt  was  made  to  man  the 
forts,  a  general  sauve  qui  pent  took  place;  a  well- 
equipped  and  numerous  army  melted  away  in  headlong 
flight. 

By  noon  Uskub  had  ceased  to  be  a  Turkish  town,  its 
name  was,  once  more,  Skoplje. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  KUMANOVO  31 

During  the  afternoon  I  came  across  some  regiments, 
which  had  fought  on  the  extreme  right,  forming  up 
about  five  miles  north  of  the  town.  The  men  grinned 
with  pride  and  satisfaction  as  they  showed  the  blood- 
stains on  their  bayonets ;  they  had  come  far  for  this,  but 
knew  no  fatigue.  Though  so  fierce  in  battle  and  filled 
with  blood-lust,  they  were  curiously  gentle  in  their  ways 
with  the  wounded  of  both  sides  and  their  prisoners ;  one 
felt  that  one  was  with  a  lot  of  big,  strong  children  who 
would  bear  almost  anything  up  to  a  certain  point,  but 
that  beyond  that  point  it  was  most  inadvisable  to  go. 

All  sorts  of  wild  stories  were  being  circulated.  It  was 
said  that  a  man,  dressed  in  white  and  riding  a  white 
horse,  had  led  the  charge — many  had  seen  the  appari- 
tion, and  had  recognized  Czar  Lazar. 

A  strange  meeting  took  place  that  evening.  The 
Consuls  of  the  Great  Powers  in  Uskub  had  remained  in 
the  panic-stricken  town.  When  the  last  vestige  of  Turk- 
ish authority  had  left,  they  sallied  forth  in  carriages  to 
meet  the  conquering  host,  bringing  with  them  the  keys 
of  the  town.  On  reaching  the  Servian  outpost  line  they 
were  forced  to  alight,  and,  after  being  blindfolded,  to 
proceed  on  foot  to  the  headquarters  of  the  Crown  Prince, 
a  distance  of  II/2  miles.  The  scene  was  not  without  a 
certain  irony.  On  the  one  hand,  a  young  Balkan  Prince, 
elated  with  victory,  surrounded  by  his  Staff;  on  the 
other,  the  representatives  of  Great  Britain,  France,  Rus- 
sia and  Italy  blindfolded,  muddy  and  dishevelled  by  a 
long  tramp  in  goloshes  through  black,  sticky  mud.  Fine 
feathers  make  fine  birds,  national  prestige  has,  after  all, 
something  to  do  with  gold  lace. 

The  conqueror  received  these  unexpected  envoys  gra- 
ciously and  accepted  the  keys,  but  he  slept  that  night 


32  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

among  his  soldiers  on  the  ground  that  thev  had  won. 

Few  triumphs  have  found  a  more  appropriate  setting. 
To  the  south  the  plain  terminated  in  an  arc  of  hills 
already  dimmed  by  gathering  twilight ;  spanning  the 
arc  the  River  Vardar  shone  like  a  band  of  silver ;  between 
the  river  and  the  hills  lay  Skoplje,  the  minarets  of  its 
numerous  mosques  served  as  reminders  of  the  conquered 
Turk ;  commanding  both  the  valley  and  the  town  a  fort- 
ress stood,  its  old  grey  walls  had  sheltered  Dushan,  the 
greatest  of  all  the  Servian  Tsars.  These  were  the  fruits 
of  victory — and  the  tokens  of  revenge. 

I  rode  back  to  our  bivouac  with  the  Russian  IMilitary 
Attache,  and  quoted  to  him  the  words  of  Goethe  after 
Valmj^;  we  were  indeed  entering  on  a  new  world  in 
the  Balkans.  My  companion  put  his  thoughts  into  far 
more  concrete  form:^  "C'est  la  liquidation  de  TAutri- 
che"  was  his  comment  on  the  situation.  The  wish  was 
father  to  the  thought,  a  frequent  source  of  error  in  Rus- 
sian calculations;  Servia's  victory  was,  undoubtedly,  a 
discomfiture  for  the  Ball  Platz,  ^  but  the  final  liquidation 
of  Austria-Hungary  was  not  yet  accomplished.  That 
consummation  was  reserved  for  a  later  date,  and  for  a 
more  universal  tragedy. 

Our  road  led  across  the  battlefield.  On  every  side 
were  traces  of  the  struggle,  corpses  of  men,  dead  and 
dying  horses.  Near  the  railway  we  found  a  Turkish 
gun  team  of  which  five  of  the  horses  had  been  killed  or 
wounded  by  a  shell,  the  sixth  horse,  a  big  solemn-looking 
grey,  was  standing  uninjured  by  his  fallen  comrades,  an 
image  of  dumb  distress.  A  Servian  soldier,  charged  with 
the  collection  of  loose  horses,  appeared  upon  the  scene, 

1  "It  is  the  liquidation  of  Austria." 

2  Austro-Hungarlan  Foreign   Ofittce   In  Vienna. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  KUMANOVO  33 

and,  after  putting  the  wounded  animals  out  of  their  pain, 
turned  to  the  grey,  which  had  been  standing  quietly 
watching  the  man  at  work.  Obviously,  the  next  step  was 
departure,  but  here  a  difficulty  arose.  The  solitary  sur- 
vivor of  the  gun  team  was  loth  to  leave,  and  the  look 
in  his  honest,  wistful  eyes  was  infinitely  pathetic.  A 
colloquy  ensued  between  the  representative  of  the  Rus- 
sian Empire  and  the  Servian  peasant.  Both  were  Slavs, 
and,  in  consequence,  horse  lovers;  both  agreed  that  this 
horse  deserved  and  desired  death ;  there  and  then  an  act 
of  extravagance,  almost  impossible  in  any  other  army, 
was  perpetrated,  and  the  gun  team  was  reunited  in  some 
equine  Nirvana  known  only  to  Slavs  and  Arabs.  **  An- 
other victim  of  the  war,"  I  remarked  to  my  companion, 
as  we  continued  on  our  road.  He  evidently  considered 
this  observation  as  typical  of  my  British  lack  of  imag- 
ination, and  proceeded  to  recite  a  poem  describing  the 
fall  of  snowflakes.  Russians  can  witness  human  suffer- 
ing with  indifference,  but  are  curiously  sentimental  in 
regard  to  nature,  animals  and  flowers;  nearly  all  Slavs 
possess  a  dangerous  charm,  the  charm  of  men  with  gen- 
erous impulses  uncontrolled  by  guiding  principles ;  their 
speech  is  splendid  and  inspiring,  their  actions  uncertain, 
since  they  are  ever  at  the  mercy  of  lurking  passions  and 
events. 

Just  before  darkness  fell  a  number  of  birds,  coming 
from  all  directions,  settled  upon  the  battlefield,  they  were 
black  in  colour ;  round  Kumanovo  spread  another  ' '  Field 
of  Blackbirds."  But  these  were  not  blackbirds  in  the 
ordinary  sense;  they  were  carrion  crows  brought  by  some 
instinct  from  their  lonely  haunts  to  batten  on  man's 
handiwork  littering  that  death-strewn  plain.  A  raucous 
cawing  made  the  evening  hideous ;  sometimes  a  cry,  more 


34  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

harsh  and  guttural  than  the  rest,  seemed  to  propound  a 
question,  an  answering  clamour  followed,  approving, 
quarrelling;  it  might  have  been  a  parliament  of  birds, 
summoned  fortuitously,  already  passing  laws  to  regulate 
this  unexpected  intercourse.  Gloating,  but  not  yet  satis- 
fied, the  stronger  birds  had  made  themselves  lawgivers, 
and  meant  to  impose  respect  for  property  upon  their 
weaker  brethren. 

That  night  the  Austrian  Military  Attache  left  Servian 
Headquarters  for  Vienna.  His  Russian  colleague  ex- 
plained his  sudden  departure  on  the  ground  that,  accord- 
ing to  the  Austro-Hungarian  program,  the  Turks 
ought  to  have  won.  It  may  have  been  unwise  for  a  small 
Balkan  State  to  cross  the  wishes  of  so  great  a  Power; 
but  neither  doubts  nor  fears  assailed  the  Serbs  that  night ; 
they  had  gained  at  Kumanovo  the  first  pitched  battle  of 
the  war,  and  it  had  been  a  famous  victory. 


CHAPTER  IV 
Macedonia — 1912 

Macedonia  is  a  tangle  of  mountains,  whose  higher 
levels  are  often  bare  and  rocky;  the  intervening  valleys 
are  fertile,  and  in  some  cases,  sufficiently  extensive  to 
be  described  as  plains.  These  plains  are  the  granaries 
of  Macedonia,  and  contain  the  larger  towns  like  Skoplje 
and  Monastir,  their  population  consists  of  peasants  and 
farmers  representing  all  the  Balkan  races,  mingled  with 
these,  and  living  by  their  toil,  are  traders  of  almost  every 
nationality.  The  scenery  is  wild  and  picturesque  by 
turns,  good  roads  are  few  and  far  between,  they  link 
the  plains,  which  lie  like  oases  in  a  wilderness  of  moun- 
tains, spaces  of  white,  brown,  green  or  yellow,  according 
to  the  season. 

The  victory  of  the  Serbs  at  Kumanovo  had  been  deci- 
sive, it  had  settled  the  fate  of  Northern  Macedonia.  Sim- 
ilar success  had  attended  the  operations  in  Northern 
Albania,  where  the  Turks  had  abandoned  their  positions 
and  were  falling  back  on  Scutari,  pursued  by  the  3rd 
Servian  Army  advancing  westward  to  the  Adriatic. 
After  a  short  delay  at  Skoplje,  devoted  to  the  reorgan- 
ization of  the  1st  and  2nd  Armies,  the  Serbs  continued 
their  offensive  towards  Southern  Macedonia ;  the  bulk  of 
their  available  forces,  under  the  command  of  the  Crown 
Prince,  moved  south  in  the  direction  of  Monastir,  while  a 
detachment  of  all  arms  descended  the  Vardar  Valley,  its 
objective  being  Salonika. 

35 


36  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

These  dispositions  were  dictated  by  sound  strategy, 
which,  for  the  moment,  and  quite  justifiably,  overrode 
all  political  considerations.  The  enemy's  Field  Army 
in  Macedonia  had  to  be  found  and  beaten ;  the  remnants 
of  that  army  were  rallying  for  the  defence  of  a  second 
Plevna,  covering  the  richest  inland  town  in  Macedonia, 
situated  west  of  the  Vardar  Valley,  and  joined  with 
Salonika  by  a  railway.  At  this  period,  so  far  as  I  could 
judge,  the  Serbs  were  acting  as  loyal  allies.  The  fact 
that  no  Bulgars  were  participating  in  the  operations 
could  be  explained  on  administrative  grounds. 

I  decided  to  remain  with  the  Crown  Prince's  recon- 
stituted army,  and  arrived  at  his  headquarters  in  the 
middle  of  November;  they  were  established  at  Prilip,  a 
prosperous  little  town  situated  at  the  northern  extrem- 
ity of  the  plain  of  Monastir.  Winter  had  already  set 
in,  rain  was  falling  on  the  plain  and  snow  lay  on  the 
hills. 

A  lodging  had  been  provided  for  me  in  a  peasant's 
house,  whose  spotless  cleanliness  was  most  reassuring. 
In  this  small  dwelling  were  crowded  the  representatives 
of  Great  Britain,  France,  Russia  and  Italy,  with  a 
Servian  officer  as  guide  and  interpreter,  the  owner  of 
the  house  was  absent  with  the  armies,  his  wife  both 
cooked  and  served  our  meals.  I  asked  the  Servian  officer 
of  what  race  she  was.  He  replied,  * '  Oh,  she  is  a  Bulgar, 
there  are  a  few  Bulgarian  farmers  in  this  district." 

At  Servian  Headquarters  the  situation  was  discussed 
with  a  frankness  which  had  been  lacking  while  the 
Austro-Hungarian  Military  Attache  was  present. 
Every  one  agreed  that  the  task  before  the  Servian  Army 
was  one  of  unusual  difficulty.  The  Turkish  forces  were 
stiU  numerous,  they  disposed  of  excellent  communica- 


MACEDONIA,  1912  37 

tions  with  Salonika,  and  the  position  they  occupied  was 
of  great  natural  strength.  The  Serbs,  on  the  other  hand, 
were  far  from  their  base,  the  roads  connecting  Prilip 
with  the  railway  were  almost  impassable  for  heavy- 
wheeled  vehicles,  and  the  train  service  with  Servia  was 
irregular  and  inefficient.  Fortunately,  the  inhabitants 
of  Prilip  had  come  to  the  rescue  by  supplying  the  troops 
with  30,000  loaves  of  bread  daily. 

The  spirit  of  the  Servian  soldiers  was  still  excellent, 
they  were  flushed  with  victory  and  confident  of  success; 
but  they  had  slaked  their  passion  for  revenge,  their 
thoughts  were  with  their  families  and  homes,  to  which 
they  expected  to  return  so  soon  as  this  next  and  last 
battle  should  have  been  fought  and  won. 

A  change  had  taken  place  in  the  mood  of  the  Russian 
Military  Attache ;  he  seemed  pre-occupied,  and  had  made 
himself  unpopular  at  Servian  Headquarters  by  urging 
the  inclusion  of  Bulgarian  forces  for  the  attack  on  Mon- 
astir.  This  suggestion  had  first  been  made  at  Skoplje, 
and  had  met  with  a  flat  refusal ;  it  was  renewed  at  Prilip 
when  the  inhabitants  agreed  to  supply  the  troops  with 
bread.  Incensed  by  a  second  refusal,  the  Russian  so  far 
forgot  his  diplomatic  self  as  to  state  in  public  that  such 
conduct  on  the  part  of  the  Serbs  was  idiotic,  in  view  of 
the  fact  that  the  great  majority  of  the  population  of  the 
town  and  district  were  Bulgars.  I  asked  him  to  which 
town  he  referred,  ''Monastir  or  Prilip,"  he  replied, 
"both."  A  sidelight  was  now  being  cast  on  the  con- 
tents of  the  ** Secret  Treaty,"  already  an  inkling  could 
be  gained  of  the  troubles  that  were  to  come. 

Two  roads  lead  south  from  Prilip.  One  traverses  the 
plain  throughout  its  length,  the  other  skirts  its  eastern 
boundary,  following  the  left  bank  of  the  Cema,  a  tribu- 


63393 


38  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

tary  of  the  Vardar.  The  Serbs  advanced  by  both  these 
roads,  the  main  body  debouched  upon  the  plain,  while  a 
detachment  took  the  river  route,  a  metalled  road  built  on 
swampy  ground  between  the  Cerna  and  a  range  of  lofty 
mountains.  Snow  had  fallen  during  the  night  preceding 
this  advance,  and  when  day  broke  billows  of  mist  ob- 
scured the  Cerna 's  course  and  blotted  out  the  hills  be- 
yond. At  the  southern  limit  of  the  plain  a  ridge,  cov- 
ered with  new-fallen  snow,  screened  from  our  view  the 
town  of  Monastir;  this  ridge  was  the  Turkish  position, 
which  faced  almost  due  north  with  its  right  flank  resting 
on  the  Cerna;  the  river  had  overflowed  its  banks  and 
caused  a  widespread  inundation.  The  left  flank  termi- 
nated in  a  cluster  of  foothills  between  the  northern  end 
of  Lake  Prespa  and  Monastir ;  the  nature  of  the  country 
and  the  absence  of  roads  protected  this  flank  from  a 
turning  movement.  For  two  days  the  Serbs  wasted 
their  energies  in  frontal  attacks  against  this  carefully 
prepared  position ;  each  assault  broke  like  a  wave  on  the 
barbed-wire  entanglements  which  covered  the  Turkish 
trenches.  For  the  first  time  the  Servian  infantr^^  had 
been  checked,  and  a  feeling  akin  to  dismay  was  spread- 
ing in  their  ranks;  it  seemed  impossible  to  scale  that 
ridge,  behind  which  nestled  Monastir,  invisible  and  unat- 
tainable. Success  now  depended  on  the  action  of  the 
detachment  on  the  Cerna  road.  Here,  the  Turks  had 
committed  a  serious  error,  the  extensive  inundations  on 
their  right  flank  had  led  them  to  believe  that  it  was  in- 
accessible, and  they  allowed  the  Serbs  to  advance,  prac- 
tically unopposed,  along  the  river  as  far  as  Novak,  a 
village  on  the  left  bank,  situated  due  east  of  Monastir, 
and  connected  with  it  by  a  built-up  chaussee.  The  error 
consisted  in  under-estimating  the  qualities  of  the  peas- 


MACEDONIA,  1912  39 

ants  and  fishermen  of  Servia,  men  inured  from  their 
youth  to  hardships  and  exposure,  to  whom  few  natural 
obstacles  are  insurmountable.  Another  factor  super- 
vened— the  factor  of  morale.  Over  their  comrades  on 
the  plain  the  troops  of  Novak  had  one  great  advantage 
— they  could  see  the  town  lying  behind  the  snow-clad 
ridge. 

War  is  a  pilgrimage  for  simple  soldiers,  long  days  of 
marching,  longer  nights  of  vigil;  they  know  not  where 
they  go,  nor  why — until  the  day  of  battle;  if  then  they 
see  the  goal  they  fight  with  clearer  purpose,  and 
knowledge  born  of  vision  casts  out  their  doubts  and  fears. 
So  it  was  with  the  Serbs  that  day  at  Novak ;  they  looked 
across  a  waste  of  water  and  saw  before  them  Monastir 
— the  Mecca  of  their  pilgrimage ;  the  sight  inspired  these 
humble  pilgrims,  they  set  their  faces  to  the  west,  entered 
the  icy  flood,  crossed  it  unflinchingly,  and  by  this  bold 
manceuvre  snatched  victory  from  defeat. 

By  the  evening  of  the  third  day  of  battle  the  right 
flank  of  the  Turkish  position  had  been  turned,  the  Turks 
had  abandoned  their  positions  north  of  Monastir,  and 
had  effected  their  retreat  into  the  mountains  of  Albania. 
Greek  cavalry  arrived  at  Fiorina  (a  town  on  the  Mon- 
astir-Salonika  railway)  during  the  course  of  the  battle, 
but  took  no  part  in  the  fighting.  A  Bulgarian  column, 
descending  the  Struma  Valley,  had  already  reached  the 
Rupel  Pass,  where  the  mountains  merge  into  the  coastal 
plain.  For  all  practical  purposes  the  Balkan  Allies  were 
masters  of  Macedonia;  Greek,  Bulgarian  and  Servian 
forces  were  converging  on  Salonika,  whose  fall  was  im- 
minent. 

On  November  20,  two  days  after  the  capture  of  Mon- 
astir, the  3rd  Servian  Army,  in  co-operation  with  the 


40  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

Montenegrins,  captured  Alessio,  and  thus  gained  access 
to  the  Adriatic  seaboard.  So  far  as  Servia  was  con- 
cerned little  remained  to  be  done,  old  Servia  had  been 
reconquered,  an  outlet  to  the  sea  had  been  acquired. 
Servia,  the  State,  had  more  than  gained  her  object; 
Servia,  the  Ally,  the  Member  of  the  Balkan  League,  was 
at  the  parting  of  the  ways.  Under  the  terms  of  the 
Secret  Treaty,  Monastir  passed  into  Bulgaria's  sphere 
of  influence.  This  Macedonian  town,  if  held  as  one  of 
the  fruits  of  Servia 's  victory,  was  bound  to  become  an 
apple  of  discord.  Every  thinking  man  in  Servia  knew 
it,  but  knowledge  is  not  always  power. 

The  Prime  Minister  of  Servia  in  1912  was  M.  Pasitch, 
already  a  veteran  among  Balkan  statesmen,  and  a  man 
of  patriarchal  mien.  The  enemies  of  M.  Pasitch  said 
that  his  long,  white  beard  had  made  his  reputation  as  a 
statesman ;  his  friends  deplored  an  accent  which  was  not 
purely  Servian,  he  had  been  born  at  Pirot,  on  the  Bul- 
garian frontier,  where  races,  languages  and  politics  were 
apt  to  get  somewhat  mixed.  To  foreigners  M.  Pasitch 
was  a  man  of  mystery,  who  spoke  French  badly,  German 
rather  better,  and  dealt  in  platitudes.  Yet,  beyond 
doubt,  he  was  one  of  Servia 's  great  old  men,  with  or 
without  his  beard.  King  Peter,  weighed  down  by  age 
and  suffering,  had  left  to  him  the  cares  of  State,  and  he 
had  borne  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day  unruffled  by 
abuse  or  calumny.  At  times  he  was  pathetic,  as,  for 
example,  when  he  said  that  the  worst  enemies  of  his 
country  and  himself  were  those  he  tried  to  rule.  These 
words  conveyed  a  bitter  truth.  M.  Pasitch  was  a  Servian 
institution,  a  Nestor  in  the  Council,  but,  like  most  Bal- 
kan politicians,  only  retained  office  by  submission  to 
forces  independent   of   the   Government.     The   foreign 


MACEDONIA,  1912  41 

policy  of  Servia  was  dictated  by  M.  Hartwig,  the  Russian 
Minister,  and  a  diplomat  of  conspicuous  ability;  within 
certain  limits  this  arrangement  worked  well,  however 
galling  it  may  have  been  to  citizens  of  a  sovereign  State. 
Servia 's  internal  affairs  were  at  the  mercy  of  factions 
and  secret  societies;  of  these  the  most  influential  was  a 
society  known  as  the  "Black  Hand,"  which  included 
among  its  members  some  of  the  ablest  men  in  the  coun- 
try, whose  patriotism  was  beyond  dispute,  but  who  had 
all  the  vices  of  their  virtures.  The  very  qualities  which 
had  made  them  fight  so  well  fostered  a  spirit  of  unreason- 
ableness; they  mistook  moderation  for  lack  of  zeal  and 
prudence  for  timidity,  in  their  eyes  it  was  statesman- 
ship to  give  free  rein  to  the  unbridled  appetites  of  ignor- 
ant, short-sighted  men  intoxicated  by  success. 

In  an  evil  hour  for  Servia  a  combination  of  irrespons- 
ible forces  directed  Servian  policy  in  regard  to  Mon- 
astir.  The  attitude  of  the  Serbs  was  at  least  compre- 
hensible, they  could  urge  their  sacrifices  and  the  rights 
of  conquest,  that  of  M.  Hartwig  was  inexplicable.  This 
man  knew  the  contents  of  the  Secret  Treaty,  on  which 
was  based  the  Balkan  League,  and  by  which  Servia  re- 
nounced her  claims  to  IMonastir.  He  could  not  have  ig- 
nored Bulgarian  sentiment  in  Macedonia,  nor  the  statis- 
tics of  the  population;  yet  he — a  chief  creator  of  the 
Balkan  Bloc,  an  ardent  Slav,  a  clever,  gifted  man,  steeped 
in  the  politics  of  Central  Europe — connived  at  denun- 
ciation of  the  Secret  Treaty  within  a  few  months  of  its 
signature. 

Interference  by  the  Great  Powers  in  Balkan  affairs 
has  always  been  disastrous,  because  it  has  been  selfish. 
M.  Hartwig  may  have  considered  the  Serbs  as  little 
brothers,  but  he  used  them  as  an  advanced  guard  of 


42  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

Pan-Slavism  without  regard  for  their  real  interests  or 
preparedness  for  the  task.  Like  the  Russian  ]\Iilitary 
Attache,  he  thought  that  the  victories  of  Kumanovo  and 
Monastir  had  brought  about  "la  liquidation  de  I'Autri- 
che,"  and  that  in  future  Russia  alone  would  control  the 
Balkan  situation.  He  was  wrong,  and  his  and  Servia's 
mistaken  policy  gave  Austria-Hungary  her  opportunity. 

The  reaction  of  policy  in  strategy  soon  became  mani- 
fest. In  spite  of  the  fact  that  a  Turkish  Army,  led  by 
Djavid  Pasha  (the  best  of  Turkey's  generals),  was  still 
in  being,  all  active  operations  were  suspended,  and  the 
Serbian  forces  were  distributed  throughout  the  con- 
quered territory  and  became  an  army  of  occupation. 
Monastir,  renamed  Bitolja,  was  held  by  a  garrison  con- 
sisting exclusively  of  Serbs,  the  civil  administration  was 
taken  over  by  Serbian  officials. 

Monastir  had  become  a  part  of  Serbia,  and  a  very 
unhappy  part  at  that.  The  reasons  were  not  far  to  seek 
— the  population  was  not  Servian,  78  ^  per  cent,  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  vilayet  were  Bulgars,  and  of  the 
rest  only  a  small  proportion  were  Serbs.  Ruthless  re- 
pression of  every  institution  or  business  which  did  not 
profess  a  Servian  origin  only  served  to  embitter  pop- 
ular feeling,  and  reveal  the  real  facts  of  the  situation. 
Ignorance  of  the  Servian  language  was  counted  as  a 
crime;  publicans  and  other  comparatively  innocuous 
traders  were  flogged  for  infringing  decrees  published  in 
Servian  which  the}^  could  not  understand.  Twelve 
lashes  applied  by  an  athletic  gendarme  are,  no  doubt,  a 
powerful  incentive  to  learning  foreign  languages,  but 
many  residents  so  mistrusted  their  linguistic  talents  that, 

1  Turkish  statistics :  There  is  good  reason  to  believe  that  these  figures 
were  approximately  correct ;  it  is  most  improbable,  in  any  case,  that 
the  Turlcs  would  have  exaggerated  the  number  of  Bulgars  in  this  vilayet. 


MACEDONIA,  1912  43 

rather  than  face  a  second  lesson,  they  left  their  homes, 
preferring  the  lot  of  refugees  to  tyranny  and  persecu- 
tion. Monastir  was  a  town  in  torment,  lamentations  re- 
sounded in  the  Consulates  of  all  the  Great  Powers,  the 
publicans  were  not  alone  in  regretting  the  departure  of 
the  backward  but  tolerant  Turk. 

In  the  army  of  occupation,  although  discipline  was 
strictly  maintained,  a  revulsion  of  feeling  had  taken 
place.  The  poor  in  every  Balkan  State  were  suffering, 
as  they  always  do,  on  them  had  fallen  the  burden  of 
the  war,  shorn  of  its  bloody  splendour.  The  misery  in 
Macedonia  sickened  the  Servian  peasants,  they  feared 
for  their  own  homes,  and  deserted  in  large  numbers. 
Armies  are  not  machines,  they  are  dynamic  bodies  whose 
health  depends  on  action,  kept  stationary  amid  a  strife 
of  tongues  they  melt  away. 

The  Greeks  had  won  the  race  for  Salonika  without 
much  bloodshed,  it  was  said  that  the  Turkish  military 
governor  had  sold  the  town  for  300,000  francs.  The 
Bulgars  arrived  a  few  hours  after  the  triumphal  entry 
of  the  Greek  troops.  They  were  received  coldly,  like  un- 
welcome visitors.  The  Serbs  were  greeted  more  cor- 
dially, but  as  guests  rather  than  Allies. 

At  all  ^gean  ports  the  sea  breezes  compete  unsuc- 
cessfully with,  unsavoury  odours,  resulting  from  insan- 
itary conditions,  dried  fish  and  garlic;  Salonika  was  no 
exception  to  the  rule,  but  at  the  time  of  my  arrival  the 
moral  atmosphere  was  even  more  unwholesome.  Greeks, 
Serbs  and  Bulgars  jostled  each  other  in  the  narrow 
streets,  proclaiming  by  their  presence  the  downfall  of 
Turkish  rule  in  Macedonia.  Yet,  though  success  was 
sweet,  its  aftermath  had  turned  to  bitterness.  Some- 
thing had  been  smashed,  something  they  had  all  feared 


44  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

and  hated;  and  now  they  were  face  to  face  with  one 
another,  the  broken  pieces  in  their  hands,  themselves  a 
prey  to  envy,  greed,  and,  worst  of  all,  uncertainty.  The 
Balkan  Allies  were  writhing  in  the  net  of  an  alliance 
concluded  secretly,  its  clauses  were  known  only  to  a 
chosen  few,  who  dared  not  to  tell  the  truth.  Each  nation 
had  its  version  of  the  Treaty,  twisting  the  facts  to  suit 
its  special  interests.  Brawls  occurred  daily  in  the  streets 
between  the  Allied  soldiers,  their  leaders  wrangled  in 
hotels.  Many  wealthy  Turks  had  remained,  they  wore 
the  look  of  men  who,  if  not  over-honest,  still  hoped, 
when  the  thieves  fell  out,  to  come  into  their  own  again. 

Greece  claimed  Salonika  on  the  ground  of  prior  occu- 
pation ;  Bulgaria  demanded  that  the  port  and  its  hinter- 
land should  be  under  the  same  administration,  or,  in 
other  words,  her  own;  Servia  had  no  direct  interest  in 
Salonika,  but  clung  doggedly  to  Monastir,  in  spite  of 
the  Treaty. 

The  Greek  and  Bulgarian  Governments  then  in  power 
were  anxious  to  reach  a  settlement,  but  neither  Govern- 
ment dared  abate  its  claims;  public  opinion  in  both 
Greece  and  Bulgaria  was  supposed  to  be  against  conces- 
sions, because  some  organs  of  the  Press  had  said  it  was 
so.  A  curious  illusion  this,  though  prevalent  in  every 
country.  In  the  Balkans  many  important  papers  were 
subsidized  with  foreign  money,  yet  still  were  believed 
to  voice  the  views  of  peasants  who  could  neither  read 
nor  write. 

Colonel  G P ,  while  discussing  the  possibility 

of  obtaining  ammunition  from  the  Western  Powers 
through  Salonika,  had  suggested  that  the  port  should  be 
internationalized.  This  was,  of  course,  the  only  prac- 
tical solution  of  the  problem ;  but  coming  from  a  Serb  it 


MACEDONIA,  1912  45 

would  have  had  more  weight  if  it  had  been  accompanied 
by  a  promise  to  surrender  Monastir.  Unfortunately,  no 
such  surrender,  either  immediate  or  prospective,  was 
within  the  sphere  of  practical  politics.  M.  Gueshoff,  the 
Bulgarian  Prime  Minister,  went  so  far  as  to  offer  to 
leave  the  town  and  a  part  of  Macedonia  to  the  Serbs  until 
the  Servian  aspirations  in  other  directions  should  have 
been  gratified.  An  agreement  to  this  effect  was  reached 
during  a  private  meeting  with  M.  Pasitch,  but  it  came 
to  naught ;  neither  Prime  Minister  could  control  the  sin- 
ister forces  which  worked  like  a  poisonous  leaven  in 
their  countries,  and  were  rapidly  wrecking  the  Balkan 
*'Bloc." 

By  the  middle  of  December,  1912,  it  had  become  evi- 
dent that  no  peaceful  settlement  of  the  Macedonian  ques- 
tion was  possible  if  the  Balkan  States  were  left  to  their 
own  devices.  Collective  intervention  by  the  Great 
Powers  was  precluded  by  the  attitude  of  at  least  three 
among  them,  who  were  deliberately  exploiting  the  rivalry 
of  the  Balkan  Allies,  and  hoped  to  fish  in  troubled 
waters. 

In  the  Bay  of  Salonika  a  British  warship  lay  at 
anchor,  a  symbol  of  the  Armada  whose  tentacles  were 
on  every  sea,  but  a  symbol  and  nothing  more.  To  the 
men  on  shore,  some  of  whom  were  looking  at  the  sea 
for  the  first  time,  this  ship  was  an  object  of  respect 
and  curiosity ;  they  had  heard  of  Great  Britain 's  habitual 
gesture  when  Abdul  Hamid  became  obstreperous,  and 
they  may  have  wondered  whether  Salonika  was  not  re- 
garded in  the  same  light  as  Besika  Bay ;  ^  it  may  even 
have  occurred  to  some  of  them  that  perhaps  the  British 

1  A  bay  In  the  Rastern  Mediterranean  Coast  to  which  a  British  squad- 
ron was  sent  whenever  It  was  necessary  to  put  pressure  on  the  Turks. 


46  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

Government  had  a  policy  in  the  ^gean,  where  a  new 
situation  had  arisen,  requiring  prompt  attention  from 
the  Mistress  of  the  Seas. 

It  was  then,  as  it  is  now,  my  firm  conviction  that  if, 
at  this  critical  period,  the  British  and  French  Govern- 
ments had  sent  a  Note  insisting  on  Salonika  being  made 
an  international  port,  and  that  if  the  Note  had  been 
supported  by  the  dispatch  to  Salonika  of  a  squadron  of 
warships,  Greece  and  Bulgaria  would  have  complied. 
The  rulers  of  the  Balkan  States  would  have  welcomed 
such  a  method  of  escape  from  the  dilemma  in  which  they 
found  themselves ;  they  knew,  none  better,  how  devoid  of 
a  comprehensive  Macedonian  policy  they  were,  how  the 
swift  advance  of  the  armies  had  outstripped  their  calcu- 
lations, and  what  would  be  the  consequences  if  they 
failed  to  reach  agreement.  The  Note  would  have  indi- 
cated the  course  to  pursue;  the  display  of  force  would 
have  justified  compliance  in  the  eyes  of  their  own  peo- 
ples. Objections  to  this  course  of  action  might  have 
been  raised  by  the  Central  Powers,  but  they  could  hardly 
have  made  it  a  casus  helli,  the  pretext  would  have  been 
too  flimsy;  further,  while  the  Balkan  Bloc  was  still  in 
being  a  prudent  policy  was  imposed.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  Russian  Government,  partly  owing  to  the  advocacy 
of  M.  Hartwig,  and  partly  from  anxiety  in  regard  to 
the  Bulgarian  advance  towards  Constantinople,  had  be- 
come the  partisan  of  Servia,  and  was  not  directly  inter- 
ested in  Salonika. 

No  such  step  was  taken,  and  a  great  opportunity  was 
lost.  The  action  of  each  of  the  Great  Powers  was  char- 
acteristic— the  British  Government  suggested  a  confer- 
ence of  Balkan  representatives  in  London ;  French  agents, 
working  in  the  interest  of  Schneider,  secured  orders  from 


MACEDONIA,  1912  47 

the  Servian  Government  for  guns  and  ammunition ;  Italy- 
sent  Servia  a  warning  about  the  Adriatic ;  Austria-Hun- 
gary began  a  partial  mobilization.  If  further  proof  had 
been  needed,  this  mobilization  should  have  convinced  the 
most  purblind  observers  of  Austria-Hungary's  underly- 
ing motives;  the  veriest  tyro  in  geography  must  have 
known  that  Salonika  was  more  accessible  to  the  fleets 
than  to  the  armies  of  the  Great  Powers;  a  display  of 
force  in  Bosnia  and  Herzegovina  could  not  effect  ap- 
peasement at  Salonika,  it  could  only  terrorize  the  Monte- 
negrins and  the  Serbs,  and  at  the  same  time  encourage 
the  Turks  still  left  in  Europe  to  prolong  their  resistance. 
Nor  did  Austro-Hungarian  policy  overlook  the  possibil- 
ities presented  by  Bulgaria;  the  Bulgars,  so  far,  had 
gained  little  by  the  war,  the  Greeks  were  at  Salonika,  and 
the  Serbs  at  Monastir;  they,  the  Bulgars,  had  not  yet 
captured  Adrianople,  and  their  hearts  were  filled  with 
bitterness  and  resentment.  After  all,  they  had  some 
cause  to  grumble,  and  some  excuse  for  listening  to  the 
tempter. 

The  belligerent  States  accepted  the  invitation  to  con- 
fer in  London.  While  the  delegates  conferred,  wearied 
soldiers,  immobilized  by  frost  and  snow,  burrowed  in 
holes  like  hibernating  animals. 

I  returned  to  Belgrade  for  Christmas,  1912.  The 
town  was  full  to  overflowing,  and,  as  usual,  foreigners, 
posing  as  Balkan  experts,  did  all  the  talking.  The 
Serbs  themselves  were  feeling  the  pinch  of  war,  hunger 
and  cold  had  brought  typhus  in  their  train;  the  angel 
of  death  was  claiming  many  victims  still. 

Walking  back  from  dinner  with  a  journalist  who  en- 
joyed a  European  reputation,  I  got  what  my  companion 
called  '*a  peep  behind  the  scenes."    It  was  a  most  un- 


48  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

edifying  spectacle,  and  as  remote  from  reality  as  the 
moon,  which,  sailing  high  in  heaven,  lit  up  that  winter 
night. 

In  all  that  concerned  the  Balkans  the  Great  Powers 
were  in  truth  les  Grandes  Impuissances.  ^  Blinded  by 
ignorance,  greed  and  prejudice,  they  were  laying  the 
foundations  of  a  pyramid,  whose  blocks  would  be  errors 
piled  on  errors  through  seven  succeeding  years.  The 
Great  Powers  were  the  master-builders,  and  the  Balkan 
States  their  pupils.  Apt  pupils  these,  ready  to  learn  and 
accustomed  to  obey.  The  lessons  given  and  received 
were  base,  unworthy  and  a  negation  of  all  moral  sense. 

To  any  one  who  knew  and  faced  the  facts  the  situation 
had  the  elements  of  a  Greek  tragedy.  The  Balkan  ex- 
perts had  played  the  part  of  a  Bacchanalian  chorus  and 
created  a  suitable  atmosphere.  The  first  act  was  com- 
pleted, its  stage  a  little  known,  romantic  land,  to  many 
a  land  of  promise.  One  wondered  whether  the  cast  was 
yet  complete,  and  what  new  players  might  be  added. 
Ruthlessly,  logically  and  inevitably  the  climax  would 
be  reached.  But  where  and  how?  No  one  could  then 
foresee. 

1  "The   Great   Powerless." 


CHAPTER  V 
Albania— 1912-1913 

After  the  victory  at  Kumanovo,  as  already  mentioned, 
the  3rd  Servian  Army  marched  westwards  into  Albania. 
The  northern  part  of  this  Turkish  province  had  a  spe- 
cial value  in  Servian  eyes.  It  included  the  so- 
called  Adriatic  ports — Durazzo  and  San  Giovanni  di 
Medua. 

Colonel  G P had  given  me  some  idea  of  the 

hatred  felt  by  his  countrymen  for  Albanians  generally. 
The  misgivings  aroused  at  Belgrade  by  his  reference  to 
this  subject  were  more  than  confirmed  by  the  conduct 
of  the  Albanian  campaign.  No  detailed  narrative  of 
these  operations  has  been  obtained,  but  the  fragmentary 
reports  received,  both  from  neutrals  and  belligerents, 
left  no  doubt  as  to  the  atrocities  which  accompanied  and 
stained  indelibly  the  heroism  and  endurance  of  the  Serv- 
ian soldiers.  Whole  villages  were  wiped  out,  old  men, 
women  and  children  were  either  slaughtered  in  their 
homes  or  driven  forth  to  die  of  cold  and  famine,  the 
countryside  was  wasted,  an  orgy  of  wanton  destruction 
was  permitted,  if  not  encouraged,  by  the  Servian  Staff. 
As  the  army  penetrated  more  deeply  into  the  mountains, 
fresh  horrors  were  added;  winter  set  in,  the  passes  be- 
came blocked  with  ice  and  snow,  men  and  animals  fell 
from  slippery  tracks  into  abysses,  disease  and  insanity 
were  rife,  a  line  of  corpses  marked  the  passage  of  the 
army.     Numbers  dwindled  rapidly;  only  the  strongest 

49 


50  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

survived;  stragglers  were  left  to  die  in  awful  solitudes. 
The  Albanian  peasants,  aided  by  the  Turks,  defended 
their  mountains  step  by  step ;  bands  of  them  hovered 
round  the  line  of  march,  seeking  a  chance  for  grim  re- 
prisals. Quarter  was  neither  asked  nor  given;  men 
fought  like  barbarians  with  a  veneer  of  science,  which 
made  their  actions  doubly  hideous.  Episodes  described 
by  competent  and  impartial  observers  leave  an  impres- 
sion as  painful  as  it  is  confusing;  nothing  more  terrible 
has  taken  place  in  any  part  of  the  world,  or  in  the  whole 
history  of  war. 

Servian  activities  in  Albania  provoked  a  protest  on 
the  part  of  two  of  the  Great  Powers,  but  not  on  humani- 
tarian grounds.  From  both  Vienna  and  Rome  there 
came  a  note  of  warning:  "Ne  touchez  pas  I'Adriatique"^ 
was  the  purport  of  the  message.  Tne  attitude  of  the 
Austro-Hungarian  and  Italian  Governments  was  frankly 
interested;  it  was  that  of  a  big  dog  who  sees  a  terrier 
gnawing  a  bone  within  tempting  reach  of  its  (the  big 
dog's)  kennel.  This  prohibition  was  not  to  be  lightly 
disregarded,  but  the  Government  at  Belgrade  showed 
unexpected  firmness.  Strong  in  their  faith  in  Russia 
and  in  M,  Hartwig,  the  Serbs  continued  to  advance. 
After  a  month  of  ceaseless  struggle  against  Turks,  Al- 
banians, the  elements  and  nature,  this  vanguard  of  Pan- 
Slavism  in  the  Balkans  came  vnthin  sight  of  the  forbid- 
den coast,  between  Alessio  and  Durazzo.  The  soldiers 
raised  a  shout  of  exultation.  Behind  them  lay  a  barrier 
of  mountains,  impassable  in  winter ;  before  them  was  the 
sea,  to  reach  whose  shores  they  had  endured  and  risked 
so  much.  Some  troopers  galloped  quickly  to  the  beach 
and  spurred  their  famished  horses  into  the  sparkling 

1  "Dou't  touch  the  Adriatic." 


ALBANIA,  1912-1913  51 

water,  and  when  they  found  it  was  not  fit  to  drink  they 
murmured  helplessly.  The  men  of  Servia  proper,  unlike 
their  kinsmen  of  Dalmatia,  had  not  the  habit  of  the  sea ; 
for  them  it  still  remained  a  mystery,  pregnant  with  dis- 
illusionment both  present  and  to  come. 

The  Turks  had  withdrawn  the  bulk  of  their  forces  to 
Scutari  and  the  Serbs  occupied  Alessio  without  encoun- 
tering serious  opposition.  This  ancient  town  is  situated 
at  the  junction  of  the  new  road  from  the  coast  at  San 
Giovanni  di  Medua  with  the  main  road  connecting  Du- 
razzo  and  Scutari.  It  formed,  in  consequence,  an  ad- 
mirable base  for  future  operations.  For  the  time  being, 
however,  the  3rd  Servian  Army  was  incapable  of  fur- 
ther efforts;  the  troops  were  exhausted,  supplies  and 
ammunition  were  scarce,  boots  for  the  men  and  shoes  for 
the  horses  were  alike  lacking,  and,  until  sea  communica- 
tions with  Servia  through  Salonika  could  be  established, 
a  continuance  of  the  offensive  was  impossible.  Unfor- 
tunately, the  confusion  which  reigned  at  Salonika  pre- 
vented the  immediate  despatch  of  supplies  and  reinforce- 
ments to  San  Giovanni  di  Medua;  the  army  was  im- 
mobilized by  force  of  circumstances  and  degenerated  into 
an  army  of  occupation,  holding  a  strip  of  territory  be- 
tween the  mountains  and  the  sea. 

The  invasion  of  Albania  had  been  undertaken  pre- 
maturely and  in  a  spirit  of  exaggerated  optimism;  im- 
patience and  want  of  foresight  had  rendered  fruitless  an 
achievement  which,  however  marred  by  atrocities,  was  a 
splendid  feat  of  arms.  Servians  position  in  Albania  be- 
came more  precarious  with  every  day  that  passed  in  in- 
activity. The  key  of  the  situation  was  Scutari.  "While 
that  fortress  remained  in  Turkish  hands,  conquest  was 
incomplete,  and  at  any  moment  one  or  more  of  the  Great 


52  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

Powers  might  intervene;  already  there  were  indications 
that  the  Dual  Monarchy  ^  was  losing  patience  and  fret- 
ting against  a  policy  which  kept  the  ring. 

Alessio  is  noted  as  the  burial  place  of  Scanderbeg,  an 
Albanian  chieftain  and  son  of  a  Servian  princess.  Dur- 
ing the  15th  century  he  had  waged  war  against  the 
Turks  for  over  twenty  years ;  his  name  was  a  household 
word  in  Servia,  as  that  of  one  who  had  fought  a  com- 
mon foe.  Time  had  wrought  many  changes  since  those 
days.  The  narrow  streets  around  the  hero's  tomb  were 
thronged  by  an  invading  host  of  Serbs,  with  devastation 
in  their  track,  their  hands  imbrued  with  Albanian  peas- 
ants' blood.  An  evil  genius  seemed  to  possess  the  Serv- 
ian leaders.  The  war,  no  more  a  war  of  liberation,  had 
loosed  their  basest  passions;  success  had  made  them 
cruel,  vindictive  and  tyrannical,  the  very  faults  for 
which  they  blamed  the  Turks. 

As  Bacon  says : ' '  Prosperity  is  not  without  many  fears 
and  distastes ;  and  adversity  is  not  without  comforts  and 
hopes."  While  Servia  groaned  beneath  the  Turkish 
yoke,  cycles  of  songs  had  fortified  her  faith  and  poetized 
defeat.  Only  a  ''Hymn  of  Hate"  could  chronicle  this 
victory — a  fierce  lament,  resounding  through  a  land  of 
desolation,  echoing  a  people's  cries  of  woe. 

Winter  passed  without  any  active  protest  on  the  part 
of  the  Great  Powers  in  regard  to  the  presence  of  Servian 
troops  in  Northern  Albania.  In  the  early  part  of  Feb- 
ruary, the  Young  Turks,  under  the  leadership  of  Enver 
Pasha,  broke  off  the  peace  negotiations  in  London,  and 
hostilities  recommenced  in  Thrace  and  Albania.  Mace- 
donia was  clear  of  Turks  and,  from  a  purely  Servian 
point  of  view,  the  only  remaining  military  operation  was 

1  Austria-Hungary. 


ALBANIA,  1912-1913  53 

the  capture  of  Scutari.  The  troops  on  the  spot  were 
unequal  to  the  task,  and  the  Servian  Government  de- 
cided on  the  despatch  of  reinforcements,  by  sea,  to  San 
Giovanni  di  Medua.  Time  pressed.  The  Serbs  had 
learned  at  the  London  Conference  that  a  fait  accompli  ^ 
was  a  better  basis  for  bargaining  with  their  Allies  and 
the  Great  Powers  than  the  most  righteous  cause;  they 
feared  that,  at  an  early  date,  a  second  armistice  might 
be  imposed  upon  them,  and  they  were  determined  to,  if 
possible,  attend  the  next  conference  as  masters  of  Scutari 
and  the  adjacent  coast. 

The  organization  of  the  expeditionary  force  was  com- 
pleted rapidly  and  efficiently,  and  by  the  end  of  Febru- 
ary the  Servian  troops  were  concentrated  at  Salonika. 
Unfortunately  for  the  Serbs,  they  were  dependent  on 
their  Greek  allies  for  overseas  transport  and  a  naval 
escort.  The  intentions  of  the  Greek  Government  may 
have  been  excellent,  but  their  administrative  services  left 
much  to  be  desired.  It  was  not  until  March  17  that  the 
fleet  of  transports  steamed  out  of  Salonika  harbour;  at 
least  14  days  had  been  wasted  in  vexatious,  and  in  some 
cases  unnecessary,  delays. 

The  ships  were  overcrowded  to  an  extent  which  would 
hardly  have  been  justified  if  the  voyage  had  been  made 
in  time  of  peace,  when  it  would  have  lasted  only  four 
or  five  days;  in  time  of  war,  and  more  especially  in 
view  of  the  recent  activity  of  the  Turkish  cruiser  Ham- 
idieh,  a  prolongation  of  the  voyage  should  have  been 
allowed  for  and  suitable  arrangements  made ;  they  were 
not,  and  once  again  the  soldiers  had  to  suffer  for  the 
optimism  of  the  Headquarters  Staff.  In  point  of  fact, 
the  Hamidieh  was  never  within  1,000  miles  of  the  Adri- 

1  "An  accomplished  fact." 


54  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

atic,  but  its  name  inspired  dread,  and  the  transports 
dared  not  move  without  an  escort  of  Greek  warships. 
At  the  last  moment  these  were  not  forthcoming,  owing 
to  the  occurrence  of  a  naval  display  at  the  PiraBus,  on 
the  occasion  of  the  funeral  of  King  George  of  Greece, 
who  had;  been  assassinated  a  few  days  earlier  in  the 
streets  of  Salonika.  Twelve  precious  days  were  spent 
between  the  ^gean  and  the  Gulf  of  Corinth.  The  con- 
voy reached  the  Ionian  Sea  and  anchored  off  San  Gio- 
vanni di  Medua  after  a  journey  lasting  17  days.  So 
long  a  voyage  in  crowded,  insanitary  transports  had  its 
inevitable  result;  typhus  had  broken  out  among  the 
troops,  many  men  were  buried  at  sea,  the  horses  and 
oxen  suffered  terribly;  some  had  been  embarked  a  fort- 
night before  we  left  Salonika.  Without  firing  a  shot 
the  Servian  Expeditionary  Force  had  lost  much  of  its 
fighting  value,  mainly  through  the  muddling  of  the  mili- 
tary and  naval  staffs.  War  is  at  all  times  wasteful. 
When  Allied  States  share  in  an  enterprise  officials  speak 
in  many  tongues,  their  jealousies  are  national  as  well  as 
personal,  the  waste  is  augmented  out  of  all  proportion 
to  the  results  achieved. 

As  we  approached  our  moorings  at  San  Giovanni  di 
Medua,  I  was  standing  on  the  bridge  of  the  flagship 

with  Colonel  G P .     After  looking  through  his 

field  glasses  at  the  coastline  for  some  minutes,  he  turned 
to  me  with  the  laconic  remark,  "Dasz  ist  ein  groszes 
nichts."^  No  better  description  could  have  been  made 
in  words. 

Lying  before  us  was  a  bay  sheltered  from  the  north 
by  a  low  headland,  below  which  could  be  seen  a  sandy 
beach  with  two  jetties;  to  the  east  of  the  beach  was 

1  That  is  a  big  nothing. 


ALBANIA,  1912-1913  55 

the  mouth  of  the  River  Drin;  from  here  the  coastline 
ran  in  a  southerly  direction  and  was  fringed  by  man- 
groves. The  only  human  habitations  in  sight  were  two 
houses  on  the  headland,  and  in  the  distance,  about  six 
miles  away,  Alessio.  Stranded  on  the  beach  were  two 
Greek  steamers,  victim  of  the  Hamidieh.  San  Gio- 
vanni di  Medua  was  not  a  port,  it  was  an  open  roadstead, 
affording  no  shelter  from  a  south-west  wind. 

The  reinforcements  sent  by  sea  brought  the  total  num- 
ber of  Servian  combatants  in  Albania  up  to  23,000  of  all 
arms,  with  a  good  proportion  of  artillery.  At  this  stage 
of  the  war,  and  taking  into  consideration  the  jealousies 
which  divided  the  Turkish  commanders,  a  force  of  such 
size  and  composition  had  Scutari  at  its  mercy.  One  de- 
termined assault  would  have  brought  about  the  fall  of 
the  fortress.  For  reasons  which  have  never  been  ex- 
plained, the  Servian  General,  who  directed  also  the  oper- 
ations of  the  Montenegrin  Army,  continually  postponed 
the  day  for  the  assault.  This  procrastination  was  des- 
tined to  have  disastrous  consequences. 

Nearly  three  weeks  had  passed  since  the  landing  when, 
one  evening  at  dinner  time,  I  was  informed  that  the  gen- 
eral assault  would  take  place  at  dawn  on  the  following 
day.  The  infantry  and  guns  were  already  in  their  ad- 
vanced positions,  and  every  one  was  confident  of  success. 
Towards  the  end  of  the  meal  a  Servian  Staff  Officer  en- 
tered with  a  message  for  Colonel  G P ,  who,  after 

reading  it,  leaned  across  me  and  addressed  the  General. 
Both  men  seemed  agitated,  and  left  the  tent  together. 
A  few  minutes  later  I  was  asked  to  join  them,  A  curi- 
ous document  was  put  before  me.  It  was  signed  by  a 
British  admiral,  who  described  himself  as  the  commander 
of  an  international  squadron  of  warships,  anchored  at 


56  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

tlie  time  of  writing  off  San  Giovanni  di  Medua.  There 
was  nothing  ambiguous  about  this  document.  It  was  a 
formal  order  to  the  Servian  General  to  withdraw  his 
forces  from  the  neighbourhood  of  Scutari  and  bring  them 
back  to  the  coast ;  no  diplomatic  verbiage  was  employed 
and  no  explanations  were  given. 

The  first  effect  of  this  amazing  communication  on  the 
two  Servian  officers  was  stupefaction,  which  soon  gave 
way  to  strong  resentment.  They,  not  unnaturally,  con- 
sidered such  treatment  as  an  affront  to  the  sovereignty 
of  their  country  and  a  flagrant  breach  of  neutrality. 
They  found  some  consolation,  however,  in  the  fact  that 
a  British  admiral  had  signed.  It  gave  them  a  sense  of 
security,  so  they  said.  Everywhere  in  the  Balkans  one 
found  this  sentiment  towards  the  British.  It  touched 
the  heart  and  flattered  pride  of  race ;  one  tried  to  forget 
the  ignorance  and  detachment  of  the  British  Govern- 
ment, to  justify  this  simple  trust  and  to  be  worthy  of  it. 
The  signature  was  not  very  legible,  but  the  name  was 
already  sufficiently  well  known  for  me  to  recognize  it  as 
Cecil  Bumey. 

No  steps  were  taken  to  countermand  the  assault,  which 
would  undoubtedly  have  taken  place  had  not  a  telegram 
from  Belgrade  arrived  at  midnight  containing  full  in- 
structions as  to  the  future  conduct  of  the  Servian  forces 
in  Albania.  The  withdrawal  of  all  troops  to  the  sea- 
coast  whence  they  had  come  was  to  be  absolute  and 
immediate ;  advanced  posts  were  to  be  withdrawn  under 
cover  of  darkness,  to  minimize  the  risk  of  rearguard 
actions  with  the  enemy.  On  arrival  at  San  Giovanni  di 
Medua,  preparations  were  to  be  made  at  once  to  re- 
embark  the  troops  on  specially  provided  transports,  al- 
ready on  their  way  from  Salonika. 


ALBANIA,  1912-1913  57 

The  Serbs  marched  back  to  the  coast  bursting  with 
anger  and  despair.  All  their  hardships  and  sufferings 
had  been  endured  in  vain.  Coming  down  the  valley  to- 
wards the  beach  they  saw  before  them  a  great  array  of 
warships,  flying  the  flags  of  six  Great  Powers,  and 
learned  another  bitter  lesson.  The  sea  was  not  for  them 
— not  yet  at  least.  A  swift  reaction  followed.  The 
force  that  daunted  them  was  force  afloat,  on  land  they 
held  themselves  invincible,  and  asked  for  nothing  better 
than  to  return  to  Macedonia,  to  conquests  nearer  to  their 
hearts  and  homes ;  to  mountains  and  inland  plains  where 
water  was  not  salt;  where  men  and  animals  were  not 
cooped  up  in  stifling  holds,  and  did  not  have  their  stom- 
achs turned  by  the  uneasy  movements  of  the  sea. 

They  thought  they  had  been  tricked,  and  from  this 
mood  a  frame  of  mind  emerged  which  brooked  no  com- 
promise at  Monastir.  The  "Black  Hand"  society  got 
many  new  adherents  from  the  Servian  Army  in  Albania 
during  these  fateful  days.  Made  bitter  by  helplessness 
and  disappointment,  the  belief  spread  among  the  men 
that  that  society  alone  stood  up  for  Servia's  rights,  and 
so  they  joined  the  ranks  of  the  enemies  of  peace. 

Colonel  G P looked  grey  and  haggard;  this 

termination  of  an  enterprise  of  which  he  had  been  the 
principal  organizer  was  a  set-back  in  his  career,  but  to 
all  personal  considerations  he  was  indifferent.  The 
causes  of  this  sudden  display  of  energy  on  the  part  of 
the  Great  Powers  did,  however,  give  him  food  for  anxious 
reflection.  He  saw  the  handiwork  of  Austria-Hungary, 
and  said  bitterly:  "Albania  is  a  small  country,  but  it 
contains  three  races  and  four  religions.  There  is  only 
one  way  of  maintaining  peace  here,'  and  that  is  by  divid- 
ing this  country  between  Servia  and  Greece.     At  the 


58  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

beginning  it  would  be  hard,  but  no  harder  for  the  Alban- 
ians than  when  they  were  under  the  Turks,  from  whom 
we  have  liberated  them.  Austria  wants  an  autonomous 
Albania,  though  she  knows  it  is  an  absurdity,  because 
she  does  not  want  peace  in  the  Balkans,  except  on  her 
own  terms.  Great  Britain  and  France  are  helping  Aus- 
tria— Grod  knows  why!  What  do  your  people  know 
about  Albania?"  He  pointed  to  the  warships  in  the 
bay  and  added :  ' '  Today  is  the  first  birthday  of  autono- 
mous Albania;  it  is  a  bad  day  for  all  the  Balkan  States." 
I  thought  of  that  suburb  in  Berlin  where  there  was 
one  bank  too  many,  and  then  of  a  Conference  of  Ambas- 
sadors in  London,  called  to  resolve  the  Albanian  riddle. 
Burian  ^  would  be  there  as  well  as  Mensdorff.^  Austria 
would  speak  with  no  uncertain  voice.  If  the  British 
Government  had  a  policy  in  Albania,  it  was  surely  an 
Austrian  policy.  A  division  of  Albania  between  Servia 
and  Greece  was  the  logical  outcome  of  the  Balkan  "War 
of  1912;  it  might  have  been  effected  under  the  control 
of  the  Great  Powers  and  guarantees  could  have  been 
exacted  for  the  protection  of  the  different  nationalities. 
For  harder  questions  have  been  dealt  with  on  these  lines, 
since  the  expulsion  of  the  Serbs  from  the  Albanian  coast. 

1  Baron   Burian,   afterwards   Count  Burian,   a  prominent  Austro-Hun- 
garian  diplomat  both  before  and  during  the  war. 

2  Count  Albert  Mensdorfl,  Austro-Hungarian  Ambasaador  in  London  for 
15  years. 


CHAPTER  VI 

The  Second  Balkan  War  and  the  Treaty  of 
Bucharest 

In  April,  1913,  representatives  of  the  Balkan  States 
were  summoned,  for  the  second  time,  to  Great  Britain, 
and  once  again  the  negotiations  threatened  to  drag  on 
interminably.  They  were  cut  short,  however,  by  Sir 
Edward  Grey,  who  had  lost  patience  with  the  procras- 
tinating methods  of  the  delegates,  and  a  treaty  was 
signed,  known  as  the  ''Peace  of  London." 

So  ended  the  first  Balkan  War.  Turkey  lost  all  her 
territory  in  Europe  except  Turkish  Thrace,  which  served 
as  a  hinterland  to  Constantinople;  Bulgaria  acquired 
Adrianople  and  Dede  Agatch  as  her  share  of  the  spoil ;  the 
Greeks  retained  Salonika  and  Cavalla;  the  Serbs  still 
occupied  Monastir ;  Albania  was  declared  an  autonomous 
kingdom,  whose  frontiers  were  to  be  delimited  under  the 
direction  of  an  Ambassadors'  Conference  in  London, 
while  an  International  Commission  assisted  the  local  Gov- 
ernment, pending  the  appointment  of  a  King. 

The  Peace  Treaty  registered  the  defeat  of  Turkey;  it 
did  little  more,  and  was  merely  a  rough  and  ready  at- 
tempt to  reconcile  the  conflicting  aims  and  aspirations 
of  the  victors.  Rumania  added  fresh  complications  by 
demanding  compensation  from  Bulgaria  for  having 
played  a  neutral  part  during  a  Balkan  War.  Another 
conference  of  Ambassadors  was  assembled  in  Petrograd 
to  arbitrate  upon  this  point. 

69 


60  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

The  Bulgarian  delegate  in  London  had  been  M.  Daneff, 
a  rude,  overbearing  Macedonian  who  incensed  and  irri- 
tated all  those  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  The  selec- 
tion of  this  man  for  so  delicate  a  mission  was,  to  say 
the  least,  unfortunate.  To  many  it  appeared  suspicious 
that  M.  Daneff  should  have  been  sent,  when  M.  Gueshoff, 
the  Prime  Minister,  and  a  man  of  reasonable  and  mod- 
erate views,  could  have  gone  in  his  place ;  it  looked  as  if 
King  Ferdinand  of  Bulgaria  had  already  become  en- 
tangled in  the  meshes  of  Austro-Hungarian  diplomacy, 
whose  object  was  the  disruption  of  the  Balkan  League. 
M.  Daneff  rejected  the  overtures  and  proposals  of 
Greeks,  Serbs,  Rumanians  and  Turks  with  equal  con- 
tempt. As  a  result,  Bulgaria  became  more  and  more 
isolated.  Potential  enemies  surrounded  her  on  every 
side,  but,  blinded  by  arrogance  and  false  counsel,  she  dis- 
dained the  alliance  of  any  neighbouring  State. 

At  the  end  of  June,  the  storm  broke.  The  signature  of 
peace  had  enabled  the  Bulgarian  Government  to  concen- 
trate troops  in  Eastern  IMacedonia,  in  close  proximity  to 
the  Servian  army  of  occupation.  The  soldiers  of  the  two 
armies  fraternized  with  one  another  and,  to  all  appear- 
ances, the  Bulgars  had  the  friendliest  intentions.  The 
first  act  of  war  took  place  before  dawn  on  June  30  when, 
without  warning,  the  Servian  outpost  line  was  attacked 
and  driven  in  by  a  numerically  superior  force  of  Bulgars. 
The  Serbs  recovered  themselves  speedily,  reinforcements 
were  hurried  to  the  front  attacked,  and  a  counter-attack 
was  made  which  drove  the  Bulgars  in  confusion  from 
the  field.  Servian  successes  had  an  immediate  effect  on 
the  Government  at  Sofia.  The  treacherous  offensive  of 
June  30  was  repudiated  and  ascribed  to  the  personal  in- 
itiative of  General  Savoff,  one  of  Bulgaria's  most  no  to- 


THE  SECOND  BALKAN  WAR      61 

rious  "men  of  action"  and  a  favourite  of  the  King.  The 
repudiation  came  too  late.  All  the  other  Balkan  States 
combined  against  Bulgaria,  and  within  three  months  of 
the  signing  of  peace  in  London,  Greeks  and  Serbs  were 
fighting  their  late  ally  in  Macedonia,  while  Turks  and 
Rumanians  invaded  her  territory  from  the  east  and 
north. 

The  Bulgars  soon  found  themselves  in  a  desperate 
plight ;  no  amount  of  stubborn  valour  at  Carevoselo  ^ 
could  protect  Sofia  against  the  Rumanians  or  save  Adri- 
anople  from  the  Turks.  By  the  end  of  July  the  Bulgar- 
ian Government  was  forced  to  sue  for  an  armistice  to 
save  the  country  from  utter  ruin.  The  day  of  reckon- 
ing had  come  for  an  inexcusable  and  odious  crime. 

In  the  first  week  of  August,  the  delegates  of  the  Balkan 
States  assembled  at  Bucharest  to  negotiate  yet  another 
peace.  Their  task  was  not  an  easy  one.  Public  opinion 
in  Servia  and  Greece  was  exultant  and  clamouring  for 
vengeance ;  in  Turkey,  Enver  Pasha,  the  saviour  of  Adri- 
anople,  was  at  the  zenith  of  his  fame.  From  elements 
such  as  these  a  judicial  frame  of  mind  was  not  to  be  ex- 
pected ;  they  were  blinded  by  hatred,  pent  up  through 
decades  of  jealousy  and  fear.  Enver  cherished  ambi- 
tious dreams,  counted  on  German  help,  and  knew  no 
scruples.  The  majority  of  the  Greeks  and  Serbs  aimed  at 
reducing  Bulgaria  to  a  state  of  impotence.  Had  it  been 
possible,  they  would  have  exterminated  the  entire  race. 

A  few  courageous  voices  were  raised  in  protest  against 
a  too  brutal  application  of  the  principle  that  every  coun- 
try has  the  government  it  deserves;  they  declared  it  a 
crime  to  visit  the  sins  of  the  rulers  on  their  hapless 

1  A  place  close  to  and  Just  outside  the  S.-W.  frontier  of  Bulgaria, 
where  the  Bulgars  resisted  the  combined  attacks  of  the  Servian  and 
Greek  armies  for  14  days. 


62  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

subjects ;  they  claimed  that  the  Bulgarian  people,  as  dis- 
tinct from  their  rulers,  had  been  punished  enough  al- 
ready ;  that  Bulgaria  had  been  bled  white  and  had  made 
many  sacrifices  in  a  common  cause;  that  she  had  lost 
much  of  her  power  for  evil,  and  might,  if  properly 
handled,  lose  the  will;  they  pleaded  that  justice  should 
be  tempered  with  common  sense,  if  not  with  mercy,  and 
urged  that  the  folly  of  exasperating  millions  of  virile 
peasants,  and  thereby  driving  them  into  closer  union 
with  the  Central  Empires,  against  all  their  racial  in- 
stincts, should  be  foreseen  and  checked. 

The  men  who  dared  to  speak  with  the  voice  of  reason 
were  called  pro-Bulgars  in  Greece  and  Servia ;  they  went 
to  Bucharest,  hoping  to  find  a  more  objective  spirit. 

Many  factors  combined  to  make  the  Rumanian  capital 
the  most  suitable  meeting-place  for  the  Balkan  delegates 
on  this  momentous  occasion.  Rumania  had  struck  the 
decisive  blow  without  bloodshed;  her  army  was  intact 
and  her  treasury  was  not  depleted ;  her  territorial  claims 
were  inconsiderable  and  had  been  submitted  to  the  Great 
Powers  for  arbitration ;  lastly,  in  her  King,  Rumania  pos- 
sessed a  personage  peculiarly  fitted  to  mould  and  direct, 
dispassionately,  the  proceedings  of  the  Conference. 

King  Charles  was  a  man  advanced  in  years  who  had 
served  his  adopted  country  both  faithfully  and  well. 
The  Rumanian  people  felt  for  him  gratitude  and  respect. 
At  this  period  they  would  have  followed  loyally  in  any 
course  he  chose  to  take.  As  head  of  the  elder  and  Cath- 
olic branch  of  the  Hohenzollern  family,  the  King  of 
Rumania  was  in  close  touch  with  the  courts  of  the  Cen- 
tral Empires  and  with  King  Constantine  of  Greece. 

In  short,  fate  had  conferred  on  this  Hohenzollern 
prince  unrivalled  authority  in  his  own  country,  access 


THE  SECOND  BALKAN  WAR      63 

to  powerful  channels  of  persuasion,  and  in  relation  to 
the  other  Balkan  States,  forces  sufficient  to  impose  his 
will.  He  could,  had  he  willed,  have  been  arbiter  of  the 
Balkans  and  might  have  changed  the  course  of  history. 
In  the  event,  he  preferred  to  stand  aside. 

History  is  full  of  such  "might  have  beens."  Time 
is  a  kind  of  fourth  dimension  affecting  every  human 
action.  King  Charles's  opportunity  occurred  when  he 
was  old  and  tired.  Made  over-cautious  by  his  knowledge 
of  the  play  of  external  forces  on  the  Balkan  situation, 
he  feared  a  general  conflagration,  which  might  consume 
his  life 's  work  at  a  stroke.  And  so  he  left  ill  alone,  and 
hoped  to  end  his  days  in  peace. 

Probably  the  best  known  of  King  Charles's  ministers 
in  1912  was  M.  Take  Jonescu,  whose  tireless  energy  in 
the  cultivation  of  relationships  and  souvenirs  in  foreign 
capitals  had  earned  for  him  the  title  of  "the  Great  Euro- 
pean." This  title  was  not  undeserved,  though  applied 
ironically  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten.  M.  Take  Jonescu  had 
acquired  the  habit  of  generalizing  from  Rumanian  affairs 
so  as  to  make  them  embrace  the  whole  of  the  old  world 
and  the  new ;  this  had  enlarged  his  horizon  and  given  him 
a  vision  which  at  times  was  startlingly  prophetic.  He 
recognized  more  clearly  than  any  of  his  countrymen  the 
role  of  Rumania  at  the  Conference  and  what  could  and 
should  be  done.  The  restless,  versatile  man  of  the  people 
was  fascinated  by  the  splendid  possibilities  of  a  bold 
and  imaginative  Rumanian  policy.  Not  so  his  colleagues 
of  the  Conservative  Party ;  they  opposed  inertia  to  ideas, 
and  behind  them  stood  the  King.  M.  Take  Jonescu  had 
a  lawyer's  training  and  was  no  champion  of  lost  causes. 
This  cause  was  lost  indeed  while  King  Charles  was  on 
the  throne;  only  a  cataclysm  could  have  saved  it — a 


64  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

' '  Cascade  des  Trones. ' '  ^  The  Rumanian  statesman  fore- 
saw, and  in  liis  vaguely  anarchic  fashion  wished  for  this 
consummation,  about  which  he  was  to  write  a  few  years 
later,  but  the  lawyer  threw  up  his  brief  and  devoted 
his  undoubted  talents  to  bargaining  and  the  conclusion 
of  a  Treaty  which  King  Charles  himself  described  as  a 
"drum-head  truce."  In  the  Near  East,  men  have  a 
passion  for  subtle  and  tortuous  negotiations,  which  are 
comprehended  in  the  phrase  "un  marchandage  Balkan- 
ique, ' '  ^  which  end  in  compromises,  effect  no  settlement, 
and  serve  to  postpone  the  evil  day. 

The  Austro-Hungarian  representative  in  Bucharest 
must  have  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief  when  it  became  clear 
that  Rumania's  participation  in  the  Conference  would 
be  restricted  to  land-grabbing  in  the  Dobruja.^  Silistria 
and  a  district  from  which  one  of  the  best  Bulgarian  in- 
fantry regiments  drew  its  recruits  were  claimed,  and 
eventually  annexed,  by  Rumania.  No  great  extent  of 
territory  this,  but  enough  to  hurt. 

The  French  and  British  press,  skimming  lightly  on 
the  surface  of  the  Conference,  dealt  with  personalities 
in  preference  to  principles.  M.  Venizelos  was  their  fa- 
vourite delegate,  and  held  that  position  to  the  end.  Suc- 
cess in  any  walk  of  life  is  profitable ;  success  in  rebellion 
is  the  shortest  road  to  fame.  M.  Venizelos  had  begun 
his  career  as  a  Cretan  rebel.  In  1913  he  shared  with 
King  Constantine  the  honours  of  two  victorious  cam- 
paigns in  Macedonia,  and  was  credited  with  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  old  Hellenic  spirit.  At  Bucharest  this  re- 
markable man  was  in  a  difficult  position;  his  sole  rival 

1  "A  Cascade  of  Thrones."  The  title  of  a  series  of  articles  publighed 
by  M.  Take  Jonescu  in  1915. 

2  "Balkan  haggling." 
s  See   map. 


THE  SECOND  BALKAN  WAR      65 

in  the  affections  of  the  Greek  people  was  his  sovereign, 
to  whom  he  owed  the  allegiance  of  a  subject  and  with 
whom  his  personal  relations  wore  far  from  cordial.  The 
considered  judgments  of  M.  Venizelos  favoured  conces- 
sions to  Bulgaria  in  regard  to  Cavalla  and  its  hinterland ; 
to  any  such  suggestions  the  King  replied  with  a  categori- 
cal refusal.  Fearful  of  forfeiting  popularity  by  any  act 
which  would  diminish  the  aggrandizements  of  Greece,  M. 
Venizelos  was  perpetually  balancing  between  his  con- 
ception of  Balkan  statesmanship  and  concern  for  his  own 
reputation.  Eventually,  the  latter  gained  the  day. 
Cavalla  was  retained  by  Greece  and  another  bone  of  con- 
tention was  created  between  Greeks  and  Bulgars.  The 
presence  of  Servian  and  Turkish  delegates  at  Bucharest 
was  purely  formal.  Like  the  daughters  of  the  horse- 
leech, their  cry  was — give;  to  have  given  them  more 
than  what  they  had  already  taken  would  have  brought 
on  another  war,  and  no  one  was  prepared  for  that. 
Servia's  retention  of  Monastir  was  sanctioned,  the  Turks 
remained  at  Adrianople.  The  Bulgars,  crestfallen  and 
daunted  for  a  time,  retained  a  part  of  Thrace,  including 
Dede  Agatch  and  Porto  Lagos;  they  were  alone  and 
friendless;  the  sympathies  of  Russia,  the  one-time  lib- 
erator, had  been  estranged.  They  turned  their  eyes,  re- 
luctantly, towards  the  Central  Empires  and  nursed  a  fell 
revenge. 

In  due  course,  the  Treaty  of  Bucharest  was  signed  bj^ 
the  contracting  parties.  It  has  never  been  officially 
recognized  bj'  the  Great  Powers,  yet  by  many  it  is  ac- 
cepted as  a  basis  for  future  readjustments  in  the  Balkan 
Peninsula.  Fallacies  are  of  rapid  growth,  they  none  the 
less  die  hard.  The  negotiations  had  been,  in  fact,  a 
diplomatic  duel  between  Russia  and  Austria-Hungary, 


66  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

the  first  clash  between  two  mighty  movements — the 
"Drang  nach  Osten"  ^  and  Pan-Slavism.  Austria-Hun- 
gary had  won.  The  new  frontiers  were  a  triumph  for 
her  diplomacy.  Servia,  though  victorious,  was  enclosed 
as  in  a  net;  on  the  East  an  irreconcilable  Bulgaria;  on 
the  West,  Albania  torn  by  internal  discord,  and  fast  be- 
coming an  outpost  of  the  Central  Empires ;  on  the  South 
Greece,  where  German  influence  was  daily  gaining 
ground.  Killed  by  its  authors,  the  Balkan  "Bloc"  was 
dead,  A  new  element  had  been  introduced  into  the  bal- 
ance of  power  in  Europe.  Servia  and  Bulgaria  were 
doubtful  States  no  longer,  they  were  in  opposite  camps, 
and,  when  the  lassitude  caused  by  two  cruel  wars  had 
passed,  they  could  be  set  at  each  other's  throats  again 
to  fight  for  interests  not  their  own. 

Great  Britain  had  held  aloof  from  the  proceedings  of 
the  Conference.  Our  Minister  in  Bucharest  had  received 
instructions  to  take  neither  part  nor  lot  in  the  negotia- 
tions; if  called  upon  for  an  opinion  he  was  to  endorse 
that  of  his  Russian  colleague.  If  the  British  Govern- 
ment had  any  Balkan  policy  at  all  it  was,  apparently, 
a  Russian  policy,  a  vicarious  partnership,  an  acquiescence 
in  the  pernicious  doctrine  that  two  wrongs  may  make  a 
right. 

A  gaping  wound  had  been  made  in  Europe's  side,  the 
surgeons  had  met  together  at  Bucharest,  and  fearing  to 
probe  had  sewn  it  up  with  clumsy  stitches.  Wounds  are 
not  healed  by  surgery  such  as  this,  not  only  do  they  open 
up  again,  their  poison  spreads,  attains  some  vital  organ, 
and  causes  death.  Good  surgery  needs  knowledge,  fore- 
sight, courage,  the  power  and  will  to  act.     The  men,  who 

1  "The  Thrust  to  the  East." 


THE  SECOND  BALKAN  WAR      67 

from  ignorance  or  inertia  neglected  and  dallied  with  the 
Balkan  problem,  were  scarcely  less  guilty  than  the  crim- 
inals who,  of  set  purpose,  made  a  peace  which  sowed  the 
seeds  of  war. 

During  the  summer  of  1913  a  spell  of  intense  heat  oc- 
curred in  the  fertile  plains  of  the  Danube  valley.  In 
every  village  dirt  and  insanitary  conditions  encouraged 
flies,  winged  insects  swarmed  by  night  and  day,  revelling 
in  filth  and  carrying  disease.  The  Rumanian  peasants 
who  had  marched  into  Bulgaria  had  been  attacked  by  a 
more  deadly  enemy  than  the  Bulgarian  hosts — the  chol- 
era microbe  pursued  them  to  their  homes;  the  malady 
assumed  an  epidemic  form  and  raged  at  first  unchecked. 

To  some  it  seemed  an  act  of  retribution  for  an  un- 
righteous peace,  a  manifestation  of  stem  justice,  dubbed 
divine,  although  its  victims  were  the  innocent  and  weak. 
The  rich  escaped  by  fleeing  to  hill  stations  or  the  sea, 
the  poor,  perforce,  remained  and  died  by  hundreds,  their 
families  were  decimated,  their  fields  were  left  untilled,  a 
blight  had  fallen  on  this  pleasant  land. 

In  her  hour  of  trial  Rumania  discovered  an  unex- 
pected source  of  strength  and  consolation.  Calamity 
had  called,  and  from  her  castle  in  the  mountains  an 
English  Princess  came,  leaving  the  fragrant  coolness  of 
the  woods  for  stifling  heat  and  misery  in  myriad  shape, 
down  in  the  sun-scorched  plain.  In  every  cholera  camp 
her  white-clad  form  was  seen  moving  from  tent  to  tent, 
bringing  the  tonic  of  her  beauty,  restoring  hope, 
dealing  out  pity  with  a  lavish  hand.  To  humble  folk 
weighed  down  by  suffering,  it  was  as  though  an  angel 
passed,  and  memories  cluster  still  around  those  days, 
weaving  a  web  of  gratitude  and  loving  kindness,  a  web  to 


68  OLD  EUKOPE'S  SUICIDE 

outward  seeming,  frail  and  unsubstantial,  but  unbreak- 
able, survi\ang  all  the  shocks  of  war,  binding  the  people 
to  their  Queen. 

I  returned  to  London  through  Sofia  and  Belgrade. 
After  the  festivities  of  Bucharest  the  aspect  of  both 
these  Capitals  was  sad  indeed.  Victor  and  vanquished 
alike  were  reaping  the  aftermath  of  war ;  bedraggled 
soldiers  thronged  the  streets,  no  longer  saviours,  not 
even  heroes,  merely  idle  citizens,  useless  until  demob- 
ilized. 

From  Belgrade  my  duties  called  me  to  Vienna.  As 
the  train  crossed  the  railway  bridge  to  Semlin,  I  saw 
again  the  guns  and  searchlights  on  the  Save 's  Hungarian 
bank.  Austria-Hungary  had  not  yet  decided  on  her 
course  of  action,  but  she  was  ready.  The  Balkan  Allies 
of  1912,  like  rabbits  unconscious  of  the  presence  of  hun- 
gry pythons,  had  had  their  frolic.  Now,  they  had 
paused  for  breath  and  had  time  to  think.  No  longer 
Allies,  they  were  helpless.  Victims,  not  wholly  inno- 
cent, they  would  crouch  and  wait ;  already  it  seemed  as 
if  a  P-s-thon-State  had  stirred. 


CHAPTER  VII 
Two  Men  Who  Died 

I.      FIRST  MAN.      A  SIMPLE  SOLDIER 

Near  Krivolak,  in  the  Vardar  Valley,  a  road  strikes 
westward,  joining  the  railway  with  the  plains  lying 
beyond  a  wall  of  mountains.  At  first,  it  winds  in  tort- 
uous fashion,  following  a  streamlet's  rocky  bed,  and,  ever 
rising,  leads  to  a  tableland  where  other  roads  are  met, 
and  signposts  point  the  way  to  Monastir. 

The  Vardar  Valley  is  a  rift  of  gentle  beauty  in  a  wild, 
inhospitable  land,  the  mother  of  many  tributaries  com- 
ing from  east  and  west.  It  broadens  on  its  journey  to 
the  sea,  the  plains  adjoin  and  almost  touch  each  other, 
like  glowing  pearls  strung  on  a  silver  thread.  One  of 
these  plains  lies  north  of  Krivolak,  and  here  the  valley 
of  the  winding  stream  and  road  sinks  like  a  lovely  child 
into  its  mother's  lap.  The  war  had  made  it  a  Gehenna, 
where  wagons  creaked  and  jolted,  and  the  once  silent 
spaces  echoed  with  moans  of  pain. 

In  the  main  valley,  close  to  the  railway  station,  some 
tents  were  grouped  around  a  mast,  and  from  the  mast 
there  waved  a  Red  Cross  flag.  During  the  hours  of  dark- 
ness a  lamp  replaced  the  flag ;  both  served  as  guide  and 
landmark  to  the  countryside,  inviting  all  who  needed 
help  to  this  outpost  of  humanity. 

Here  were  received  convoys  of  sick  and  wounded, 
some  to  regain  their  health  and  strength,  others  to  join 

69 


70  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

their  comrades  in  the  graveyard  which  grew  in  size  with 
each  succeeding  day.  They  arrived  m  a  lamentable  con- 
dition, bruised  by  rough  travel  in  springless  wagons, 
their  wounds  neglected,  and  too  often  gangrened.  From 
them  one  learned  how  long  the  way  had  seemed,  how 
from  afar  their  eager,  straining  eyes  had  sought  the 
fluttering  flag  or  the  red  lamp,  which  marked  the  bourne 
where  respite  would  be  found  after  long  days  and  nights 
of  misery. 

Amid  the  scores  of  human  wrecks  littering  the  Red 
Cross  camp  one  man  attracted  my  especial  notice — a 
young  Servian  soldier.  He  lay  at  full  length  on  a 
stretcher,  and  sometimes  raised  himself  to  a  half-sitting 
posture,  but  soon  fell  back  again  exhausted  by  the  effort. 
Both  his  legs  had  been  shattered  by  shrapnel  below  the 
knees,  a  blanket  concealed  them  mercifully,  he  did  not 
know  the  worst.  The  surgeon  whispered  that  it  was  a 
hopeless  case,  gangrene  was  far  advanced,  the  long,  well- 
coupled  legs  were  doomed,  only  by  amputation  could 
his  life  be  saved. 

He  thanked  me  for  some  cigarettes  and  smiled  a  boy- 
ish smile,  showing  a  row  of  splendid  teeth.  His  uniform 
was  caked  with  mud  and  hung  in  rags,  the  muscles  rip- 
pled on  his  arms  and  chest,  which,  though  unwashed, 
were  clean,  nature  had  kept  them  so. 

The  war  had  been  a  great  event  for  him,  he  quite 
ignored  its  tragic  side,  and  talked  of  battles  and  a  charge, 
of  how  he'd  killed  a  Turk,  and  then  he  added:  "In  a 
few  months  I  will  be  well  again  and  fit  to  fight  the  Aus- 
trians."  His  home  was  in  the  Drina  highlands,  he  had 
grown  up  under  the  shadow  of  the  northern  neighbours, 
and  learned  to  hate  them  with  his  mother's  milk.    Yet 


TWO  MEN  WHO  DIED  71 

still  he  kept  his  sunny  temperament,  the  priests  who 
preached    race    hatred    had    not    destroyed    his    soul. 

Our  conversation  had  a  sudden  ending.  Two  orderlies 
came  to  take  the  stretcher  and  bear  it  to  a  tent,  the  move- 
ment made  the  blanket  slip,  and  once  again  the  soldier 
raised  himself  instinctively — saw  what  was  waiting  for 
the  surgeon's  knife,  a  mangled  mass  of  splintered  bones, 
torn  tendons,  rotting  flesh,  and  fell  back  dead. 

Perhaps  it  was  better  thus.  A  kindly  providence  had 
done  what  no  man  dared  to  do.  That  lithe  and  sinewy 
form,  without  its  legs,  might  have  contained  a  bitter 
heart,  and  added  yet  another  drop  to  hatred's  overflow- 
ing cup. 

n.      SECOND  MAN.      A  PEASANT 

In  the  Balkan  Peninsula,  monasteries  are  more  than 
places  of  refuge  for  people  with  monastic  minds,  they 
minister  to  a  wider  public,  and  are  at  once  hostels  and 
shrines,  centres  of  food  supply  and  travellers'  gossip, 
where  merchants  market,  while  monks  pray  and  sing. 
Their  pious  founders  have  left  a  saintly  work  behind 
them,  theirs  is  an  incense  burnt  in  the  furnace  of  afflic- 
tion, mounting  to  heaven  on  waves  of  gratitude. 

The  Monastery  of  St.  Joachim  stands  in  a  quiet  valley, 
a  mile  or  more  from  the  main  road  which  links  Bul- 
garian Kjustendil  with  Turkish  Uskub,  or  in  Servian 
Skoplje.  Down  this  main  road  the  tide  of  war  had 
swept,  leaving  a  trail  of  empty  granaries,  of  violated 
homes,  and  frightened,  wailing  children.  The  people 
bore  these  trials  patiently,  there  was  naught  else  to  do, 
but  when  despair  had  overcome  their  hope,  they  one  and 
all,  Christians  and  infidels  alike,  sought  consolation  at 


72  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

the  monastery  set  amid  dark  green  trees.  Thither  there 
flocked  a  hungry,  homeless  crowd,  seeking  first  food  and 
shelter,  then  repose,  and  finding  all  in  the  great  caravan- 
serai, left  standing  by  the  tolerant  Turks. 

One  evening,  during  the  first  Balkan  "War,  a  Servian 
officer  and  I  arrived  on  horseback  at  the  monastery  gate. 
Close  by  there  rose  a  spring  covered  with  slabs 
of  stone,  the  water  tricking  through  an  iron 
pipe  into  a  rough-hewn  trough.  We  paused  to 
let  our  horses  drink,  and  saw,  lying  upon  the  ground,  a 
man,  or  what  was  left  of  one.  His  form  was  rigid, 
motionless,  only  the  eyes  moved,  bright,  black,  beady  eyes, 
which  flitted  restlessly  from  face  to  face,  then  turned  to- 
wards the  setting  sun  and  stared,  undazzled,  at  the 
flaming  pageant,  only  to  leave  it  soon,  and  throw 
quick  glances  here  and  there  at  objects  nearer  and  more 
human. 

His  story  was  soon  told.  He  was  a  Bulgarian  soldier, 
struck  by  a  Turkish  bullet  near  the  spine  and  paralysed. 
Some  peasants  had  found  him  in  a  field,  and,  filled  with 
pity,  had  brought  him  to  where  he  lay,  so  that,  at  least, 
he  should  not  die  alone. 

A  woman  had  brought  a  pillow  for  his  head,  a  monk 
knelt  at  his  other  side  repeating  words  that  solace  dying 
men. 

And  then  he  spoke.  The  voice,  though  w^eak,  rang 
clear;  in  a  hushed  silence,  it  gave  the  final  message  of 
a  man  whose  earthly  course  was  run. 

Neither  the  woman  nor  the  priest  had  touched  the 
peasant's  heart.  His  thoughts  were  far  away,  but  not 
with  wife  or  children,  nor  dm  me  weiiare  of  his  soul 
trouble  his  dying  moments.  He  had  a  farm  in  the  Mar- 
itza  valley,  not  far  from  Philippopolis,  there  he  had 


TWO  MEN  WHO  DIED  73 

spent  his  life,  and  lavished  all  his  love  and  care.  To 
him  that  strip  of  land  was  very  dear,  and,  dying,  he 
remembered  it,  to  give  some  last  instructions  for  the 
next  autumn  sowing. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

"1914"  Peace  and  War 

In  the  early  spring  of  1914  a  revolution  broke  out  in 
Southern  Albania.  The  Christian  Epirotes,  renouncing 
allegiance  to  the  Prince  of  Wied  (the  sovereign  ap- 
pointed by  the  Great  Powers),  had  set  up  a  provisional 
and  independent  Government  at  Argyrocastron,  a  moun- 
tain village  about  twenty  miles  north-east  of  Santi  Quar- 
anta.  This  port  lies  within  easy  distance  of  Corfu,  and, 
by  a  stroke  of  fortune,  I  was  able  to  land  there,  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  it  was  held  by  the  insurgents.  After  a 
short  stay  at  Argyrocastron  I  went  to  Athens,  where  I 
was  received  by  both  King  Constantine  and  M.  Veni- 
zelos. 

The  former  regarded  the  revolution  from  a  strictly 
military  point  of  view.  He  said  he  had  decided  to 
take  disciplinary  measures  against  officers  and  men  of 
the  Greek  Army  who  aided  or  abetted  the  Epirotes,  and 
seemed  to  think  that  the  only  duty  of  Greek  soldiers 
was  to  their  King,  to  whom  they  owed  so  much.  As,  ap- 
parently, he  was  without  any  detailed  information  on 
the  subject,  I  did  not  tell  him  that  numerous  Greek  sol- 
diers, wearing  uniform,  were  already  with  the  insurgent 
bands.  The  King  was  at  this  time  the  most  popular 
man  in  Greece,  and  the  consciousness  of  this  had  become 
an  obsession.  He  had  won  his  popularity  by  two  cam- 
paigns, and  was  meditating  a  third,  against  Turkey,  so 
soon  as  his  army  and  his  fleet  would  be  reorganized  and 

74 


"1914"  PEACE  AND  WAR  75 

re-equipped.  Prussian  military  methods  were  to  be 
followed,  as  far  as  possible,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  a 
French  Military  Mission  had  been  charged  with  the 
training  of  the  troops.  King  Coustantine  talked  like  a 
young  officer  who  had  recently  emerged  from  a  staff 
college;  coming  from  the  ruler  of  a  country  his  con- 
versation left  an  impression  of  irresponsibility,  one  felt 
he  was  a  dangerous,  though  well-meaning  man. 

M.  Venizelos  was  moved,  almost  to  tears,  on  hearing 
of  the  pitiable  condition  of  the  Greek  refugees  from 
Central  Albania,  but  explained  his  utter  helplessness  to 
relieve  their  lot.  Albania  was  under  the  protection  of 
the  Great  Powers,  and  he  feared  that  any  practical  sym- 
pathy for  revolutionaries,  within  the  frontiers  made 
sacrosanct  by  the  Ambassadors'  Conference,  might  entail 
serious  consequences  for  himself  and  Greece.  He  in- 
quired after  M.  Zografos,  the  head  of  the  Provisional 
Government,  and  one  of  his  most  bitter  political  oppo- 
nents. The  latter  had  referred  to  M.  Venizelos  in  un- 
flattering terms,  describing  him  as  both  incompetent  and 
unprincipled,  but,  although  it  was  evident  that  no  love 
was  lost  between  the  two  men,  the  man  in  power  dis- 
dained vituperation. 

M.  Venizelos  spoke  with  real  feeling  about  the  religious 
side  of  the  revolution  and  the  sincerity  of  the  peasants 
in  all  that  concerned  their  faith.  He  seemed  amused 
at  the  idea  of  M.  Zografos  being  associated  with  three 
Archbishops  in  the  Provisional  Government.  I  asked 
the  reason.  He  confined  himself  to  saying  that  M.  Zog- 
rafos was  very  rich.  I  replied  that,  from  what  I  had 
seen  at  Argyrocastron,  at  least  one  of  the  Archbishops 
accepted  with  patriotic  resignation  this  disqualification 
for  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  on  the  part  of  his  political 


76  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

chief,  and  tliat  he  had  even  seemed  to  enjoy  some  ex- 
cellent dinners  prepared  by  the  rich  man's  cook. 

The  Prelates  in  question  were,  in  point  of  fact,  the 
real  leaders  of  the  revolution.  Between  them  they  com- 
bined all  the  qualities  needed  by  their  peculiar  environ- 
ment. Archbishop  Basileus  was  a  worldly-minded  old 
gentleman  who,  beneath  a  venerable  exterior,  concealed 
political  ability  of  no  mean  order.  Of  the  other  two — 
one  was  a  meek  and  learned  monk,  possessed  of  great 
authority  among  the  local  clergy;  the  third,  Germanos 
by  name,  was  a  striking  and  interesting  personality. 
Young,  handsome,  ascetic,  gifted  with  fiery  eloquence, 
and  as  religious  as  his  flock,  he  supplied  a  moral  impulse 
which  redeemed  much  that  was  trivial  in  the  conduct 
of  the  revolution;  his  premature  death  from  consump- 
tion was  a  real  loss  to  Epirus  and  its  already  hopeless 
cause. 

M.  Venizelos  said  little  about  general  Balkan  matters, 
he  appeared  tired  and  dispirited,  and  it  was  evident 
that  the  Greek  Government  was  not  going  to  get  itself 
into  trouble  over  the  Epirotes,  in  spite  of  their  pure 
Greek  origin.  These  unfortunate  people  constituted  the 
wealthiest  and  most  civilized  element  in  the  population 
of  Albania,  they  had  an  indisputable  right  to  a  large 
share  in  the  Government  of  that  country.  .This  they 
had  not  got,  and,  with  the  full  knowledge  of  the  Great 
Powers,  they  had  been  left,  politically,  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  men  saturated  with  Turkish  traditions,  under 
the  nominal  Kingship  of  a  conceited  and  ignorant  Ger- 
man Prince. 

I  reached  Belgrade  early  in  April,  1914,  The  city  had 
resumed  its  normal  aspect.  The  General  Staff  were  talk- 
ing and  planning  war,  the  general  public  was  more  in- 


"1914"  PEACE  AND  WAR  77 

terested  in  the  working  of  the  Commercial  Convention 
with  Greece.  In  political  and  diplomatic  circles  vague 
references  were  made  to  certain  concessions  to  Bulgaria 
in  the  Vardar  Valley.  These  latter  appeared  to  me  to 
be  so  inadequate  as  to  be  hardly  worth  discussing,  and 
yet,  as  matters  stood,  the  Serbs  refused  to  offer  more. 
This  attitude,  however  unfortunate,  was  more  reasonable 
in  1914  than  at  any  previous  period.  In  the  absence  of 
direct  railway  communication  between  Greece  and  Servia, 
the  Commercial  Convention  would  lose  half  its  point, 
since  the  only  railway  line  available  passed  by  the  Var- 
dar Valley  through  the  heart  of  the  ''Contested  Zone." 
No  practicable  trace  for  another  line  existed,  except  a 
tortuous  route  impinging  on  Albania. 

Ethnical  and  geographical  conditions  had  conspired 
to  make  Macedonia  a  "Debatable  Land,"  the  creation 
of  an  independent  Albania  had  added  fuel  to  the  flames 
of  discord,  it  had  not  only  shortened  the  Serbo-Greek 
frontier  and  prevented  all  communication  by  sea,  but,  by 
thwarting  Servian  and  Greek  aspirations  in  that  direc- 
tion, had  engendered  in  both  countries  an  uncompromis- 
ing state  of  mind.  Bulgaria's  claims  remained  unal- 
tered, they  had  become  crystallized  by  defeat  and  disap- 
pointment; amid  the  shifting  sands  of  Balkan  politics 
they  stood  out  like  a  rock. 

The  Great  Powers  had  sacrificed  the  interests  of  Greece 
and  Servia  directly,  and  those  of  Bulgaria  indirectly,  on 
the  altar  of  an  Autonomous  Albania.  Ingenuous  people 
claimed  that  this  course  had  been  dictated  by  high- 
minded  motives,  by  a  benevolent,  if  tardy,  recognition  of 
the  principles  of  self-government,  whose  application  in 
other  lands  could  wait  on  this  strange  experiment. 
Naivete  is  charming  when  not  contaminated  with  hypoc- 


78  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

risy,  but  one  swallow  does  not  make  a  summer;  a  single 
act,  however  specious,  cannot  efface  a  decade  of  intrigue. 

An  active  economic  policy  in  Macedonia  had  already 
been  initiated  by  the  Austro-Hungarian  Government. 
The  first  move  was  characteristic,  a  share  in  the  control 
of  the  Belgrade-Salonika  Railway  was  claimed,  on  the 
ground  that  a  large  part  of  the  capital  for  its  original 
construction  had  been  subscribed  by  citizens  of  the 
Dual  Monarchy.  British  newspapers  dealt  fully  with 
the  financial  aspects  of  the  case,  but  refrained  from  crit- 
icizing a  proposition  which  deprived  a  sovereign  inde- 
pendent State  of  the  sole  control  of  a  railway  within  its 
frontiers.  The  Servian  Government  tried  to  float  a  loan 
with  which  to  buy  out  the  foreign  shareholders,  but 
failed — high  finance  is  international  and  obdurate  to 
the  poor.     On  ne  prete  qu'aux  riches} 

I  stayed  in  Vienna  for  a  few  days  on  my  way  to  Lon- 
don, Here,  it  was  generally  recognized  that,  in  regard 
to  Servia,  a  dangerous  situation  was  developing,  which 
could  not  be  neglected.  Many  serious  people  frankly 
expressed  the  hope  that  some  incident  would  occur  which 
would  provide  a  pretext  for  taking  military  action 
against  the  Serbs.  No  one  wanted  war,  but  every  one 
felt  that  an  end  had  to  be  put  to  "  an  intolerable  state  of 
affairs";  the  time  for  conciliatory  measures  had  passed, 
the  Southern-Slav  movement  was  assuming  menacing 
proportions,  and  would  wreck  the  Austro-Hungarian  Em- 
pire, if  steps  were  not  promptly  taken  to  nip  it  in  the 
bud. 

Such  were  the  opinions  expressed,  in  private  circles, 
by  men  and  women  who  did  not  know  with  what  skill 
and  ingenuity  the  net  had  been  spread  for  Servia.     In 

1  Loans  are  made  only  to  the  rich. 


"1914"  PEACE  AND  WAR  79 

official  circles  confidence  was  the  prevailing  note;  the 
lessons  of  the  last  two  wars  had  been  forgotten  in  the 
Austrian  "War  Office,  where  the  efficiency  of  the  Servian 
Army  was,  as  usual,  under-estimated.  Diplomats  pro- 
fessed to  have  no  faith  in  the  sincerity  of  Russia's  inten- 
tions when  posing  as  the  champion  of  the  Southern  Slavs ; 
such  a  policy  struck  them  as  being  too  unselfish  for  the 
Government  of  the  Czar. 

Cynics  are  bad  psychologists;  to  them  Russia  has 
always  been  an  enigma  and  a  source  of  error.  M.  Hart- 
wig  expressed  the  Pan-Slav  point  of  view:  Servia  was 
part  of  Russia,  the  Serbs  were  ' '  little  brothers, ' '  destined 
once  more  to  reach  the  Adriatic,  to  bar  the  highway  to 
Salonika,  to  fight  again,  if  need  arose,  in  Slavdom's 
sacred  cause. 

The  Serbs  themselves  wanted  independence,  complete 
and  definite;  they  hoped  to  gain  it  with  the  help  of 
Russia,  and  then  to  found  an  Empire  of  their  own. 
That  Empire  could  be  created  only  at  the  expense  of 
Austria-Hungary,  Germany's  ally,  mate  of  a  monster 
Python  State  which  soon  would  raise  its  head. 

Though  outwardly  at  peace,  Servia  and  Bulgaria  were 
arming  with  feverish  haste,  preparing  to  take  their  places 
in  Europe's  opposing  camps.  The  pyramid  was  rising, 
taking  shape ;  issues  were  narrowing,  effect  was  succeed- 
ing cause ;  the  disintegration  of  the  Balkan  hloc  had  left 
the  Slavs  and  Teutons  face  to  face,  the  arena  was  cleared 
for  a  titanic  struggle,  those  who  knew  anything  of  Europe 
foretold  the  coming  storm. 

Austria-Hungary  had  not  long  to  wait  for  the  desired 
pretext.  The  assassination  of  the  Archduke  Francis 
Ferdinand  was  a  sufficiently  sensational  incident  to  sat- 
isfy the  most  exacting.     The  Dual  Monarchy  took  the 


80  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

fatal  step,  and  sent  an  ultimatum  which  was  its  own 
death  warrant. 

Civilization  stood  aghast  and  feigned  a  moral  indig- 
nation which  was  far  from  being  sincere.  Austria-Hun- 
gary, in  thus  using  a  weak  and  neighbouring  race,  was 
acting  in  strict  conformity  with  moral  standards  which 
the  Great  Powers  themselves  had  set.  Junkers  in  Ger- 
many, Cosmopolitan  financiers  in  Paris,  Reactionaries  in 
England,  and  the  Czar's  ministers  in  Russia  had  acted, 
or  were  prepared  to  act  in  precisely  similar  fashion,  each 
in  their  separate  sphere.  In  the  eyes  of  these  men,  na- 
tional sentiment  was  the  appanage  of  Great  Powers,  the 
day  of  small  States  had  passed.  They  had  admitted  the 
independence  of  Albania  from  motives  of  expediency, 
and  at  the  instance  of  Austria-Hungary,  the  very  State 
which  now  they  should  have  judged. 

The  relations  between  the  different  European  States 
were  those  which  exist  between  the  denizens  of  a  jungle 
— no  moral  laws  restrained  them,  the  weak  were  the  nat- 
ural victims  of  the  strong.  The  peoples  were  sometimes 
passive,  at  others  artificially  exicted,  but  always  helpless 
and  inarticulate,  driven  like  cattle  in  a  herd.  The 
"Jingo"  Press  in  every  Christian  land  glorified  might 
as  right,  eminent  soldiers  told  a  respectful  public  that 
militarism  alone  could  save  the  Commonwealth,  and  that 
without  its  wholesome  discipline  the  nations  would  de- 
cay ;  science  collaborated  in  the  race  of  armaments,  which 
had  become  a  source  of  riches  and  a  patriotic  cult. 

The  murder  at  Sarajevo  gave  Austria-Hungary  an 
opening,  she  pressed  her  advantage  like  a  bully  bent  on 
the  destruction  of  a  weak  antagonist.  Not  only  had  the 
weak  to  go  to  the  wall,  and  go  there  with  every  circum- 
stance of  humiliation,  a  still  more  signal  ignominy  was 


"1914"  PEACE  AND  WAR  81 

needed  to  mollify  the  wounded  pride  of  men  like  Tisza ;  ^ 
who  insisted  that  Belegrade  should  be  occupied,  and  that 
Servian  peasants  should,  once  more,  endure  the  horrors 
of  an  alien  yoke.  Only  by  such  means  could  an  Arch- 
duke be  avenged  and  jungle  law  maintained.  Blinded 
by  passion,  Austria-Hungary  had  forgotten  that  there 
were  other  carnivori  in  the  jungle  whose  interests  were 
involved. 

The  Junkers,  capitalists,  journalists  and  soldiers,  who 
had  led  Europe  to  the  verge  of  the  abyss,  now  realized 
what  lay  before  them, — something  incalculable,  immense 
and  elemental.  Self-interest  was  forgotten  for  a  mo- 
ment, even  their  callous  minds  recoiled.  These  men  had 
spent  their  lives  talking  of  European  War,  and  making 
costly  preparations  for  it,  but  at  its  near  approach  they 
flinched.  In  Petrograd  a  supreme  effort  was  made  to 
avert  the  cataclysm,  it  was  cynical  enough  and  revealed 
the  morality  of  the  "Balance  of  Power"  in  Europe  in  a 
brief  but  pregnant  phrase  - — "Ldchez  V  Autriche  et  nous 
Idcherons  les  Frangais"  was  the  message  to  the  German 
Government.  It  came  too  late;  public  opinion  in  Rus- 
sia was  dangerously  excited,  and  behind  the  Russian 
people  stood  another  Power  which  also  was  suffering 
from  "an  intolerable  state  of  affairs."  For  nearly  fifty 
years  the  French  had  lived  beneath  a  sword  of  Damocles 
wielded  with  German  arrogance;  they  supported  with 
difficulty  the  "Three  Years'  Service"  system,  and  had 
lent  much  money  to  the  Russians.  The  French  Govern- 
ment seized  its  opportunity,  France  made  the  Servian 
Cause  her  own. 

Three  crowned  heads  symbolized  the  might  and  power 

1  Count  Tisza,  leader  of  the  Hungarian  Conservatives  and  ultimately 
assassinated  in  Budapest  by  a  Hungarian  Socialist. 

2  Abandon  Austria  and  we  will   abandon  the  French. 


82  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

of  Central  Europe — one,  senile,  embittered,  selfish,  sur- 
rounded by  a  mediaeval  Court;  another,  pompous,  vain, 
ambitious,  a  war-lord,  the  apex  of  a  social  pyramid  which 
recognized  no  law  but  force ;  the  third,  an  autocrat  whose 
will  was  law  to  millions,  a  man  both  weak  and  obstinate, 
whose  character  was  a  riddle  to  those  who  knew  him 
best.  Men  such  as  these  could  not  prevent  the  conflagra- 
tion; considering  their  influence  and  position  one  won- 
dered why  it  had  not  come  before. 

When  war  became  inevitable,  the  British  Empire  was 
utterly  unprepared  in  both  a  mental  and  material  sense ; 
many  educated  people  of  the  upper  classes  were  amazed 
at  each  other's  ignorance  of  geography;  the  man  in  the 
street  awoke  from  his  wonted  lethargy,  and  studied  geog- 
raphy, as  well  as  ethics,  in  the  pages  of  the  Daily  Mail. 

On  August  10,  1914,  a  troop  train  passed  through 
Woking  Station  bound  for  Southampton  Harbour.  The 
men  were  typical  "Tommies"  of  the  old  Army,  and  were 
in  the  highest  possible  spirits.  One  of  them,  more  curi- 
ous-minded than  the  rest,  shouted  to  a  be-spectaeled 
civilian  on  the  platform,  "  'Ow  far  is  it  from  'ere  to 
Servia,  guv 'nor?"  The  train  was  in  motion,  and  time 
did  not  admit  of  a  satisfactory  reply. 

After  all,  at  that  time,  it  did  not  matter  where  or  how 
far  away  an  unknown  land  like  Servia  might  be;  all 
the  best  strategists  were  agreed  that  Servia 's  future 
destiny  would  be  settled  by  a  great  battle  in  the  West. 
Poor  Servia,  it  would  take  more  than  that  to  save  her 
from  invasion;  for  the  moment,  anyhow,  Heaven  was 
too  high,  and  her  Allies  were  too  far. 

A  little  over  twelve  months  later,  British  and  French 
troops  were  being  disembarked  at  Salonika  and  hurried 
thence  to  reinforce  the  already  beaten  and  retreating 


''1914"  PEACE  AND  WAR  83 

Serbs.  I've  wondered  sometimes  whether  the  light- 
hearted  boy,  who  tried  to  learn  geography  at  Woking 
Station,  was  of  their  number. 

He  may  have  struggled  up  the  Vardar  Valley  and 
penetrated  narrow  gorges,  where  the  railway,  for  want 
of  space,  follows  the  ancient  road.  He  may  have  seen 
the  mountains  of  Old  Servia  and  caught  an  echo  from 
their  frowning  heights:  "Too  late,  too  late,  ye  cannot 
enter  now." 


CHAPTER  IX 
The  Neutral  BiALkan  States — 1915 

My  duties  recalled  me  to  the  Balkan  Peninsula  in  the 
early  spring  of  1915.  None  too  soon,  the  Allied  Gov- 
ernments had  turned  their  attention  to  Near  Eastern 
problems  and  had  decided  to  dispatch  an  Expeditionary 
Force  to  retrieve  their  damaged  prestige  in  the  East. 
The  main  objectives  were  the  Dardanelles  and  Constan- 
tinople, respectively  the  gateway  and  the  pivot  of  the 
Ottoman  Empire  and  points  of  inestimable  strategic 
value  for  the  future  conduct  of  a  world-wide  war.  Im- 
perial policy,  in  its  widest  and  truest  sense,  dictated  this 
course  of  action  and,  as  was  natural  and  logical,  the 
Allied  Power  which  had  most  at  stake  supplied  the  in- 
itiative and  took  the  lead. 

Great  Britain,  in  its  dual  capacity  of  guardian  of  the 
sea-routes  of  the  world  and  the  greatest  Mohammedan 
Power,  has  seldom  been  in  a  more  critical  position.  Ger- 
many and  Turkey  acting  in  combination  could  approach 
the  Suez  Canal  through  Asia  Minor,  the  Red  Sea  through 
Arabia  and  the  Persian  Gulf  through  Mesopotamia. 
Enemy  successes  in  these  three  directions  could  hardly 
fail  to  have  an  adverse  influence  on  Mohammedan  opin- 
ion and,  under  such  conditions,  India  itself  would  not 
be  safe.  The  foundations  of  the  British  Empire  were 
endangered,  threatened  by  forces  both  open  and  insid- 
ious; a  British  policy,  framed  by  men  who  understood 

84 


NEUTRAL  BALKAN  STATES— 1915    85 

their  business,  was  the  only  Allied  policy  which  could 
properly  meet  the  case.  The  British  statesmen  then  in 
office  faced  this  grave  situation  with  steady  eyes, 
and  reached  a  conclusion  which,  at  the  time,  was 
widely  criticized,  but,  to  their  credit,  they  persisted 
in  it. 

The  fiat  went  forth  from  Downing  Street,  and  on  the 
experts  of  Whitehall  devolved  the  task  of  evolving  a 
strategy  in  harmony  with  policy. 

Experts,  of  any  kind,  are  good  servants  but  bad  mas- 
ters; they  are  prone  to  pessimism  when  called  to  work 
outside  their  special  spheres,  and  are,  as  a  rule,  indif- 
ferent prophets;  like  the  Spaniards,  they  often  seem 
wiser  than  they  are.  Expert  and  official  opinion  on 
both  sides  of  Whitehall  was  opposed  to  the  expedition 
to  the  Dardanelles.  The  North  Sea  drew  the  Navy  like 
a  magnet,  there  it  was  felt  the  decisive  battle  would  be 
fought,  and  the  desire  of  islanders  was  natural  to  make 
security  doubly  sure.  Mr.  Winston  Churchill  devoted  all 
the  resources  of  his  forceful  and  energetic  personality  to 
Eastern  Naval  preparations,  he  had  both  courage  and 
imagination,  and  brushed  aside  the  protests  of  officials 
within  his  jurisdiction,  but  these  were  not  the  only 
obstacles — sometimes  he  must  have  wondered  whether  a 
chasm  had  not  replaced  the  thoroughfare  which  separates 
the  Admiraltj^  from  the  War  Office.  In  the  latter  build- 
ing, an  old  machine,  under  new  and  inexperienced  direc- 
tion, was  creaking  uneasily,  barely  able  to  stand  the  strain 
caused  by  the  war  in  France.  To  the  War  Office  staff, 
it  seemed  as  if  Pelion  had  been  piled  on  Ossa,  when  they 
were  asked  to  co-operate  with  the  Navy  in  a  distant 
expedition,  whose  scope  and  nature  brought  into  strong 
relief  their  mental  and  material  unpreparedness.    Ref- 


86  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

uge  was  sought  in  procrastination,  difficulties  were  exag- 
gerated, the  many  human  cogs  of  a  complex  ma- 
chine groaned  in  the  throes  of  a  new  and  unwelcome 
effort. 

In  enterprises  of  this  nature,  risks  must  be  taken,  a 
circumspect  and  timid  strategy  misses  the  mark.  In 
this  particular  instance,  time  was  the  essence  of  the 
problem ;  a  single  Division,  at  the  psychological  moment, 
was  worth  nine  arriving  late ;  a  military  force  of  20,000 
men,  acting  in  close  support  of  the  Allied  Navies,  could 
have  achieved  success  where  a  host  a  few  weeks  later, 
even  if  ably  led,  might  fail.  The  stakes  were  enormous, 
the  obstacles,  both  naval  and  military,  formidable  but 
not  insuperable.  A  calm  appreciation  of  the  situation 
should  have  convinced  the  most  doubting  spirits  that 
Constantinople  could  be  taken  by  a  well-timed  and  vig- 
orous stroke.  At  this  period  Turkey  was  isolated,  her 
forces  were  disorganized  and  short  of  ammunition,  the 
Germans  were  unable  to  send  either  reinforcements  or 
war  material  to  this  theatre,  except  in  driblets.  The 
position  of  Enver  Pasha  was  precarious,  his  enemies 
were  numerous  and  active,  they  had  viewed  with  pro- 
found misgivings  the  rapid  growth  of  German  influence, 
and  were  ready  for  a  change.  Constantinople  was  ripe 
for  revolution ;  the  wheel  had  turned  full  circle,  the 
Allies,  by  the  irony  of  fate,  could  count  on  assistance 
from  reactionary  elements,  converted  by  mistrust  of 
Germany  into  potential  supporters  of  our  cause.  The 
neutral  Balkan  States  were  waiting  and,  in  their  hearts, 
longing  for  Allied  intervention,  it  meant  the  solution 
of  many  complicated  problems,  and  they  preferred  even 
unpleasant  certitude  to  doubt. 

A  turning  point  in  history  had  been  reached;  states- 


NEUTRAL  BALKAN  STATES— 1915    87 

men  had  ordained  the  expedition  and  left  its  execution 
to  amphibious  experts;  prompt,  energetic  action  based 
on  careful  plans  was  needed,  action  combining  force  on 
land  and  sea.  A  watching  world  was  wracked  with  ex- 
pectation, something  portentous  was  about  to  happen, 
the  Small  States  held  their  breath.  In  Whitehall,  an 
official  mountain  trembled  slightly,  and  forth  there  crept 
a  tardy,  unready  mouse. 

While  troops  were  being  crowded  pell-mell  into  trans- 
ports and  hurried  to  Gallipoli,  the  Foreign  Office  in 
London  and  Paris  took  up  the  question  of  the  neutral 
Balkan  States.  A  suggestion  that  reinforcements  should 
be  sent  to  Servia  had  gained  support  in  certain  Allied 
quarters  and,  since  the  only  available  port  of  disembark- 
ation was  Salonika,  for  this,  if  for  no  other  reason, 
friendly  relations  with  the  Greeks  were  sought.  Under 
the  cloak  of  the  commercial  convention  with  Servia,  am- 
munition was  already  passing  freely  up  the  Vardar  Val- 
ley, and  it  was  hoped  that  the  precedent  thus  established 
might  be  extended  so  as  to  cover  a  still  more  benevolent 
neutrality,  and  allow  of  the  passage  of  French  and 
British  troops.  Greece  was  the  only  Balkan  State  which 
depended  for  its  existence  on  sea  communications,  she 
was  completely  at  the  mercy  of  the  Allies,  and  no  amount 
of  German  intrigue,  in  court  and  military  circles,  could 
twist  the  logic  of  hard  facts.  Neither  King  Constantine 
nor  his  advisers  were  prepared  to  accept  formally  a  tech- 
nical violation  of  Greek  neutrality,  they  would  have 
been  helpless,  however,  if  the  Allies  had  insisted.  To  a 
layman,  the  diplomatic  situation  seemed  to  be  typical 
of  those  described  in  a  certain  class  of  novel,  in  which 
suave  but  firm  diplomacy,  supported  by  overwhelming 
force,  meets  every  protest  with  a  soothing  phrase  and 


88  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

lends  an  air  of  elegance  to  the  most  sordid  bargain. 
When  people  or  States  are  weak,  the  path  of  consent 
descends  by  hesitating  stages  from  "  No  "  through  ' '  Per- 
haps" to  "Yes." 

The  Allies  did  not  negotiate  upon  these  lines.  They 
invited  the  Greeks  to  send  practically  the  whole  of  their 
army  to  reinforce  the  Serbs;  in  return,  they  undertook 
to  protect  Greek  communications  with  Salonika,  by  oc- 
cupying the  ''«ow-contested"  zone  in  Macedonia  with 
Allied  troops.  In  all  my  travels  in  the  Balkan  peninsula, 
I  had  never  come  across  a  region  to  which  the  descrip- 
tion "non-contested"  could  be  applied  with  any  accu- 
racy ;  in  London  and  Paris  it  was  visualized  by  a  miracle 
of  self-deception,  and  acted  like  a  charm.  Here  was  the 
solution  of  the  Balkan  question,  an  Allied  force,  im- 
mobilized in  this  mysterious  zone,  would  hold  the  Bul- 
garians in  check,  encourage  the  Serbs  and  reassure  the 
Greeks ;  Rumania  would  see  what  efforts  we  were  making 
and  hurry  to  our  aid;  the  Turks,  trembling  for  Adrian- 
ople,  would  make  a  separate  peace. 

For  the  moment  the  Greek  Government  was  unable  to 
entertain  the  proposed  arrangement;  King  Constantine 
and  the  Greek  General  Staff  rejected  the  suggested  plan 
of  operations  and  put  forward  another  of  their  own, 
which  envisaged  a  second  campaign  against  Turkey  and 
opened  up  alluring  prospects  further  East.  Tempo- 
rarily, the  negotiations  failed  to  secure  either  the  co- 
operation of  the  Greek  Army  or  a  more  benevolent  neu- 
trality on  the  part  of  Greece.  The  political  situation 
in  Athens  became  more  and  more  confused.  Allied 
diplomacy  paid  assiduous  court  to  M.  Venizelos  and, 
thereby,  excited  the  jealousy  and  mistrust  of  the  King. 


NEUTRAL  BALKAN  STATES— 1915    89 

Telegrams  from  an  Imperial  War  Lord  addressed  to 
"Tino"  flattered  the  monarch's  vanity  as  a  strategist, 
he  laughed,  with  some  reason,  at  our  tactics,  and  grew 
convinced  we  could  not  win  the  war. 

Sofia  presented  a  very  different  aspect  from  Athens. 
In  the  Bulgarian  capital  there  was  little  bustle  in  the 
streets,  political  excitement  was  not  apparent,  the  in- 
habitants went  about  their  business  quietly  and,  in  the 
case  of  most  of  them,  that  business  was  military  in  its 
nature.  Bulgaria,  though  unwilling  to  commit  herself 
permanently,  still  nursed  her  wrongs;  to  obtain  redress 
for  these  was  the  object  of  the  entire  people,  and  no 
neutral  State  was  better  prepared  for  war. 

The  alliance  of  Bulgaria  was  on  the  market,  obtain- 
able by  either  set  of  belligerents  at  a  price;  that  price 
was  the  territory  in  Thrace  and  Macedonia,  of  which 
Bulgaria  considered  she  had  been  wrongfully  deprived 
by  the  Treaty  of  Bucharest.  If  the  Allies  could  have 
satisfied  the  Bulgarian  Government  on  this  point,  the 
Bulgarian  Army  would  have  been  employed  with  the 
same  soulless  ferocity  against  the  Turks  as,  in  the  end, 
it  displayed  against  the  Serbs. 

The  situation  was  clearly  defined,  and  the  role  of 
diplomacy  limited  to  the  manipulation  of  cross-currents 
of  popular  feeling  and  personal  sympathies,  which,  in 
Bulgaria  as  in  every  other  State,  divided  opinion  among 
several  political  camps.  Unfortunately  for  the  Allies, 
neither  the  British  nor  the  French  representative  in 
Sofia  had  the  requisite  qualifications  for  making  verbiage 
about  a  "non-contested"  zone  pass  for  a  definite  policy 
in  the  Balkans.  The  British  Minister  was — rightly  or 
wrongly — credited  with  Servian  sympathies,  the  French 


90  OLD  EUKOPE'S  SUICIDE 

Minister  was  not  a  ''persona  grata"  with  King  Fer- 
dinand, whose  favour  was  all-important  in  a  diplomatic 
sense.  There  does  not  appear  to  have  been  any  reason 
for  the  retention  of  either  of  these  officials  in  their  posts, 
except  the  habitual  unwillingness  of  government  depart- 
ments to  disturb  routine.  The  difficulty  of  finding  sub- 
stitutes did  not  arise  in  either  case.  Our  Foreign  Office 
had  at  its  disposal  a  brilliant  young  diplomatist,  with  a 
unique  experience  of  Balkan  capitals,  who  could  have 
rendered  more  useful  services  as  Minister  in  Sofia  than 
as  Counsellor  of  Embassy  in  Washington ;  a  well-selected 
French  aristocrat  would  have  received  a  cordial  welcome 
from  a  Prince  of  the  Orleans  family,  who  himself  con- 
trolled Bulgaria's  foreign  policy,  and  whose  "spiritual 
home"  was  France.  The  foregoing  were  some  of  the 
imponderable  factors  in  Bulgaria;  in  1914  they  could 
have  been  turned  to  good  account,  in  1915  it  was  per- 
haps too  late. 

In  time  of  war,  a  diplomatic  duel  is  like  a  game  of 
cards  in  which  victories  are  trumps ;  no  amount  of  diplo- 
matic skill  can  convert  defeat  into  success.  During  the 
spring  and  summer  of  1915,  our  Diplomats  in  the  Bal- 
kans fought  an  unequal  fight.  The  conviction  that  a 
stalemate  existed  on  the  front  in  France  and  Flanders 
was  daily  gaining  ground,  public  attention  was  concen- 
trated on  the  Dardanelles,  and  here  the  operations  were 
followed  with  an  interest  as  critical  as  it  was  intelligent. 
During  the  war  against  Turkey,  the  topographical  fea- 
tures in  this  theatre  had  been  closely  studied  by  the 
Bulgarian  General  Staff,  when  a  portion  of  the  Bul- 
garian Army  had  penetrated  into  Turkish  Thrace  as  far 
as  the  lines  of  Bulair.  To  these  men  our  tactics  became 
daily  more  incomprehensible.     At  first,  the  assaults  on 


NEUTRAL  BALKAN  STATES— 1915    91 

the  Western  extremity  of  the  Gallipoli  Peninsula  were 
taken  to  be  feints,  intended  to  cover  a  landing  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Enos,  but,  when  it  was  realized  that 
these  were  the  major  operations,  when  thousands  of 
lives  were  sacrificed  for  the  capture  of  a  few  bare  and 
waterless  cliffs,  their  bewilderment  became  intensified, 
and  into  all  their  minds  there  crept  a  doubt.  General 
Fitcheff,  the  Chief  of  Staff  and  a  man  whose  English 
sympathies  were  widely  known,  ran  considerable  risks 
by  giving  his  expert  advice  in  regard  to  a  landing  on 
the  coast  near  Enos;  he  was  no  arm-chair  critic  but  a 
practical  soldier  with  recent  and  personal  experience  of 
battlefields  in  Thrace.  His  views  were  identical  with 
those  of  the  King  of  Greece  and,  indeed,  of  the  vast  ma- 
jority of  soldiers  in  the  Balkans.  They  were  rejected  or 
ignored;  a  pseudo-omniscient  optimism  pervaded  Allied 
counsels  and  acted  like  a  blight. 

Our  friends  in  Bulgaria  contemplated  the  useless 
slaughter  at  Gallipoli  with  horror  and  dismay,  waverers 
turned  to  German  agents,  who  took  full  advantage  of 
every  change  of  mood.  An  influx  of  German  officers  and 
officials  began  about  this  time;  they  had  access  to  all 
Government  departments,  and  assumed  control  of  part 
of  the  Bulgarian  railway  system;  as  one  result  of  their 
activities  Constantinople  received  supplies  of  ammuni- 
tion, whose  Bulgarian  origin  was  suspected  if  not  known. 

The  journey  from  Sofia  to  Bucharest  lasts  less  than 
twenty-four  hours,  its  one  noteworthy  feature  is  the 
abrupt  transition  from  a  Slavonic  to  a  Latin  race.  The 
Bulgars  are  reserved  and  taciturn,  strangers  are  treated 
coldly,  they  are  not  wanted  unless  they  come  on  business 
whose  utility  can  be  proved.  I  left  Sofia  impressed  by 
the    efficiency   and   self-confidence   of   the    people,    but 


92  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

chilled  by  their  morose  and  almost  sullen  ways.  On 
crossing  the  Danube  a  new  world  was  entered,  where 
hearts  were  warm  and  life  was  gay  and  easy,  where 
every  one  talked  cleverly  and  much,  and  where,  perhaps, 
words  counted  more  than  deeds. 

In  the  spring  of  1915  Bucharest  was  a  diplomatic 
arena,  in  which  all  the  Great  Powers  were  making  pro- 
digious efforts.  Russia  had  ceased  to  treat  her  southern 
neighbour  as  a  revolted  colony;  the  Central  Empires 
had  developed  a  sudden  sympathy  for  Rumania's  na- 
tional aspirations,  more  especially  in  the  direction  of 
Bessarabia ;  Great  Britain  had  made  a  loan  of  £5,000,000, 
on  little  or  no  security,  and,  as  a  further  proof  of  dis- 
interested friendship,  was  buying  a  large  proportion  of 
the  output  of  the  oilfields,  regardless  of  the  impossibility 
of  either  using  or  exporting  this  more  than  ever  precious 
product.  A  golden  age  had  dawned,  business  men  were 
doing  a  roaring  trade,  cereals  were  being  bought  at  fancy 
prices  and,  looming  ahead,  were  brighter  prospects  still. 

I  looked  for  the  warlike  preparations  of  which  the 
"War  Office  in  London  had  so  confidently  spoken.  Of 
officers  there  appeared  to  be  no  dearth,  the  streets  and 
cafes  were  crowded  with  brilliant  uniforms,  whose 
wearers  sauntered  slowly  to  and  fro,  bestowing  glances 
on  the  softer  sex  which  were  returned  in  kind.  To 
seek  the  favour  of  the  fair  has  at  all  times  been  a  martial 
occupation.  A  wise  man  once  remarked:  "I  know  not 
how,  but  martial  men  are  given  to  love,"  and  added 
some  comments  on  perils,  wine  and  pleasures  which 
seemed  to  fit  this  case.  But  war  is  not  made  with  officers 
alone,  men  are  required,  men  of  the  people,  who  have 
no  decorative  functions  in  the  piping  times  of  peace. 
These  were  lacking,  they  were  neither  on  the  streets  nor 


NEUTRAL  BALKAN  STATES— 1915    93 

in  the  barracks,  they  were  in  their  homes,  producing 
wealth  and  not  yet  bearing  arms. 

Rumania  was  not  prepared  for  war ;  no  reservists  had 
been  mobilized,  training  depots  were  at  nonnal  strength, 
there  was  a  shortage  of  horses  for  the  Cavalry  and  Field 
Artillery,  the  Heavy  Artillery  was  deficient  both  in  qual- 
ity and  quantity,  the  aviation  equipment  was  out  of 
date,  last  but  not  least,  the  reserve  stocks  of  ammuni- 
tion had  been  depleted,  and  the  Rumanian  arsenals 
lacked  the  plant  needed  for  their  replenishment  and  the 
maintenance  of  an  army  in  the  field. 

A  policy  which  co-ordinated  diplomacy  and  strategy 
would  have  carefully  weighed  the  "pros"  and  "cons"  of 
an  alliance  with  Rumania.  The  mere  presence  of  an 
army  in  a  certain  geographical  position  means  little,  un- 
less that  army  is  an  organization  ready  to  act,  containing 
within  itself  the  means  whereby  its  action  can  be  sus- 
tained. Rumania  was  a  granary  of  corn,  a  reservoir  of 
oil,  both  valuable  commodities,  though  more  so  to  our 
enemies  than  ourselves,  but,  from  a  military  point  of 
view,  the  co-operation  of  this  land  of  plenty  involved  a 
heavy  charge.  To  meet  this  charge,  not  only  had  guns 
and  ammunition  to  be  sent,  the  Rumanian  Army  was 
short  of  everything,  including  boots  and  clothes.  Sup- 
ply alone,  though  at  this  period  difficult  enough,  did  not 
completely  solve  the  problem,  delivery  required  com- 
munications capable  of  transporting  at  least  300  tons  a 
day.  No  such  communications  existed  between  Rumania 
and  the  "Western  Powers.  Imports  could  reach  Buchar- 
est or  Jassy  only  through  Servia  or  Russia,  the  railways 
in  both  countries  were  inefficient  and  congested,  to  send 
ammunition  by  these  routes,  in  lime  of  war,  was  to  pass 
it  through  a  sieve.    The  prophecy,  made  in  May,  1915, 


94  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

that  tlie  then  existing  communications  could  not  deliver 
more  than  a  seventh  of  Rumania 's  requirements  was  well 
within  the  mark. 

In  short,  in  the  spring  and  summer  of  1915,  the  alliance 
of  Rumania  would  have  been  for  the  Western  Powers  a 
doubtful  advantage  and  a  heavy  responsibility.  The 
first  of  these  considerations  might,  at  least,  have  re- 
strained the  French  Minister  at  Bucharest  from  demand- 
ing Rumanian  intervention  with  a  vehemence  which  too 
frequently  degenerated  into  insult;  it  was  fully  appre- 
ciated by  the  Grand  Duke  Nicholas  who,  in  his  quality 
of  Russian  Generalissimo,  described  as  "une  folic  fur- 
ieuse"  what  the  French  Diplomat  thought  would  turn 
the  scale  in  favour  of  the  Allied  cause.  The  second 
consideration  should  have  appealed  to  the  British  Gov- 
ernment, the  representatives  of  a  people  who  look  before 
they  leap.  British  statesmanship  had  inspired  the  Near 
Eastern  policy  of  the  Allies,  and  had  chosen  as  first 
objectives  Constantinople  and  the  Dandanelles.  Impar- 
tial historians  will  justify  this  choice;  here  lay  the  key 
of  the  whole  Balkan  situation,  here  were  the  lever  and 
the  fulcrum  with  which  to  actuate  the  Neutral  States. 
Once  masters  of  Constantinople  and  its  waterways,  the 
Allies  would  have  found  Rumania  willing,  when  ready 
with  their  help,  to  co-operate  in  a  concerted  plan.  Her 
army,  based  on  the  Black  Sea  and  the  Danube,  would 
have  become  dynamic,  a  source  of  strength,  instead  of 
weakness,  to  an  inert  and  passive  Russian  front;  Bul- 
garia, reduced  to  impotence,  would  either  have  kept  a 
strict  neutrality  or,  breaking  unnatural  bonds,  have  re- 
turned to  the  Russian  fold;  the  Greeks,  with  their  eyes 
on  Smyrna,  could  not  have  held  aloof. 

During  the  early  months  of  1915,  diplomatic  activity 


NEUTRAL  BALKAN  STATES— 1915    95 

in  Athens  and  Sofia  might  have  achieved  results,  it 
might,  conceivably,  have  secured  the  co-operation  of  the 
Greeks  and  Bulgars  in  our  operations  at  the  Dardanelles ; 
at  Bucharest  the  position  was  wholly  different.  To  urge 
Rumanian  intervention  at  this  period  was  foolish  and 
immoral,  it  demanded  an  immense  sacrifice  from  the 
Rumanian  people  which  could  not  help  the  Allies  and 
might  do  their  cause  incalculable  harm. 

Owing  to  geographical  conditions,  the  Central  Empires 
were  able  to  offer  Rumania  more  than  merely  contingent 
support  in  return  for  her  co-operation  and  alliance. 
Numerous  railways  cross  the  Carpathians  and  by  means 
of  these  the  Rumanian  army  could  have  been  promptly 
equipped  and  efficiently  maintained  during  a  forward 
movement  into  Bessarabia,  a  province  described  by  Ger- 
man Diplomats  as  Rumania's  "promised  land." 

Rumania  lay  between  the  upper  and  the  nether  mill- 
stones of  belligerent  diplomacy,  the  mill  was  working 
at  high  pressure,  but  was  not  grinding  small.  M.  Brat- 
iano,  the  Rumanian  Prime  Minister,  was  equally  unin- 
fluenced by  the  promises  of  Germany,  the  blandish- 
ments of  Russia,  the  taunts  of  France,  and  the  loans  of 
Great  Britain.  He  refused  to  deviate  from  a  policy  of 
more  or  less  impartial  neutrality,  and  awaited  what  he 
himself  described  as  "  le  moment  opportun. ' '  ^ 

Disgruntled  allied  diplomats  and  many  of  his  coun- 
trymen reproached  M.  Bratiano  with  lethargy  and  cow- 
ardice, in  reality  they  owed  him  a  debt  of  gratitude; 
better  than  they  he  knew  the  unreadiness  of  the  army 
and  the  country  for  an  adventurous  policy,  and,  for- 
tunately for  Rumania  in  1915,  he  possessed  sufficient 
sense  and  courage  to  reject  their  amateurish  plans.     On 

1  The  opportune  moment. 


96  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

the  other  hand,  he  had  too  sound  a  judgment  to  be  daz- 
zled by  proposals,  however  spacious,  which  held  out  pros- 
pects of  territorial  conquest  at  the  expense  of  Russia, 
although,  as  his  father's  son,^  he  suspected  all  Russians 
of  treachery  and  guile. 

Since  the  death  of  King  Charles  in  November,  1914, 
M.  Bratiano  had  been  the  guiding  force  in  Rumanian 
political  life ;  he  stood  between  the  extremists,  who  clam- 
oured for  intervention  on  the  Allied  side  without  regard 
for  consequences,  and  the  Pro-germans,  whose  hatred 
and  mistrust  of  Russia  had  overcome  the  instincts  of 
men  of  a  Latin  race ;  his  influence  with  King  Ferdinand 
was  undisputed,  he  used  it  to  impose  a  neutral  attitude, 
both  in  the  Council  and  at  Court.  This  man  had  many 
qualities  of  high  statesmanship,  he  loved  his  country  and 
had  at  least  one  deep  conviction — he  was  convinced  that 
in  the  end  the  Allies  would  win  the  war. 

"Le  moment  opportun"  of  M.  Bratiano  was  the  mo- 
ment when  Rumania  could  take  up  arms  to  fight  on  the 
Allies'  side,  under  conditions  which  would  confer  a 
reasonable  prospect  of  success;  in  his  more  expansive 
moods  he  confessed  to  cherishing  the  hope,  and  even  the 
belief,  that  the  Rumanian  Army  would  deal  the  decisive 
blow.  A  proud  thought  this,  coming  from  a  citizen  of  a 
little  Neutral  State  during  so  great  a  war;  but  Ion 
Bratiano  was  nothing  if  not  proud. 

Events  were  to  put  a  heavy  strain  on  the  Prime  Min- 
ister's faith  and  hope,  times  of  trial  and  temptation  lay 
ahead,  when  more  garrulous  champions  of  the  Entente 
were  to  give  way  to  doubt.     The  withdrawal  from  the 

1  The  father  of  M.  Bratiano  was  the  celebrated  Rumanian  patriot  who, 
in  1878,  was  tricked  out  of  Bessarabia  by  Prince  Gortchakoff,  the 
Russian  Envoy,  at  the  Treaty  of  Vienna. 


NEUTRAL  BALKAN  STATES— 1915    97 

Dardanelles,  Bulgaria's  alliance  with  the  Central  Powers 
and  Servia's  subsequent  rout  were  incidents  charged 
with  grave  import  to  Rumania,  and  destined  to  postpone 
indefinitely  ' '  le  moment  opportun. ' '  M.  Bratiano  never 
wavered,  he  waited  patiently,  by  thus  resisting  the  im- 
pulses of  interest  and  sentiment,  he  faithfully  interpreted 
the  Rumanian  people's  will. 

1915  was  a  black  year  for  the  Allies,  a  period  of  diplo- 
matic defeats  and  military  disasters.  The  officials  and 
experts  had  had  their  way ;  the  policy,  which  had  fright- 
ened them  and  of  which  they  had  disapproved,  had  been 
reversed;  Servia,  the  victim  of  predigested  plans,  had 
been  overrun,  the  succour  so  long  demanded  had  been 
sent  three  months  too  late ;  the  Near  East,  save  for  some 
ragged  remnants,  immobilized  in  Macedonia,  had  been 
denuded  of  troops  and  abandoned  to  the  enemy;  the 
legend  of  British  tenacity  and  perseverance  had  been 
tried  in  a  fiery  furnace  and  had  not  survived  the  test. 

Confusion,  both  mental  and  material,  prevailed 
throughout  the  British  Empire ;  a  vague  uneasiness  had 
entered  every  mind;  a  race  of  hero-worshippers  had 
vainly  sought  a  hero  and  the  market  place  was  strewn 
with  broken  idols.  The  war  had  introduced  a  new  di- 
mension, an  all  pervading  influence,  a  nightmare  which 
haunted  waking  moments,  a  great  winding-sheet,  a  del- 
luge  submerging  human  thought. 

During  these  days  of  evil  omen,  one  reassurance  was 
vouchsafed,  one  thought  consoled,  lightening  an  atmos- 
phere of  gloom  like  a  rainbow  in  a  lowering  sky.  The 
British  people,  though  disillusioned  and  humiliated,  still 
kept  the  virtues  of  their  race;  in  their  hour  of  trial, 
they    rose    above    misfortune,    and    proved    themselves 


98  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

worthy  descendants  of  the  inspired  adventurers  whose 
heritage  they  held.  Men  to  whom  war  was  odious  de- 
veloped into  seasoned  warriors,  and  women,  who  had 
never  worked  before,  gave  up  their  lives  to  toil. 

On  battlefields,  heroic  valour  was  regarded  as  a  com- 
monplace, in  countless  homes,  self-sacrifice  became  a 
daily  rite.  In  British  hearts,  despair  had  found  no 
place,  theirs  was  a  confidence  born  of  consciousness  of 
strength,  the  strength  which  in  Kinglake's  glowing 
words  is:  "Other  than  that  of  mere  riches,  other  than 
that  of  gross  numbers,  strength  carried  by  proud  descent 
from  one  generation  to  another,  strength  awaiting  the 
trials  that  are  to  come." 


CHAPTER  X 

Sleeping  Waters 

Oh  Angel  of  the  East  one,  one  gold  look 
AcrosB  the  waters  to  this  twilight  nook, 
The  far   sad  waters,   Angel,  to  this  nook  ! 

RoBT.  Browning. 

Before  Rumania  became  a  kingdom,  and  while  Walla- 
ehia  and  Moldavia  were  separate  Principalities,  under 
the  suzerainty  of  Turkish  Sultans,  a  Russian  Army  oc- 
cupied the  land,  the  pretext  for  its  presence  being  the 
maintenance  of  law  and  order.  The  Russian  Govern- 
ment appointed  as  Pro-Consul  a  certain  General  Kissileff, 
who  planted  trees  and  laid  out  roads  and  proved  him- 
self a  wise  administrator;  the  good  he  did  survives  him, 
one  of  the  roads  he  planned  and  built  commemorates 
his  name. 

The  Chaussee  Kissileff,  or  for  short  The  Chaussee,  is 
an  avenue  of  lime  trees,  which  forms  the  first  stage  of 
Rumania's  "Great  North  Road."  Four  lines  of  trees 
border  two  side  tracks  and  the  Central  Chaussee.  Dur- 
ing the  winter  months,  their  spreading  branches  afford 
protection  from  the  wind  and  rain,  in  spring  and  sum- 
mer, they  fill  the  air  with  fragrance  and  cast  a  grateful 
shade.  This  thoroughfare  is  a  boon  to  Bucharest,  it  is 
at  once  an  artery  and  a  lung.  Here,  when  Rumania  was 
a  neutral,  courted  State,  beauty  encountered  valour, 
while  nursemaids,  children,  dogs  and  diplomats,  of  every 
breed  and  nation,  walked,  toddled,  gambolled,  barked,  or 


100  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

passed  on  scandal,  according  to  their  nature  and  their 
age. 

Beyond  the  race  course  the  Chaussee  bifurcates.  One 
branch  I  have  already  called  Rumania's  "Great  North 
Road,"  it  leads,  as  its  name  implies,  due  north  to  the 
oilfields  and  the  mountains ;  the  other  is  a  humbler  route, 
trending  westward  across  a  stretch  of  open  country 
towards  a  wooded,  dim  horizon.  It  I  will  name  Ru- 
mania's "Pilgrim's  Way." 

When  I  was  a  dweller  in  the  plain,  few  houses,  large  or 
small,  stood  on  ' '  The  Pilgrim 's  Way, ' '  which,  after  dip- 
ping to  a  stream,  curved  to  the  west  and  followed  the 
northern  bank,  its  bourne  some  feathery  treetops,  its 
only  guardians  cohorts  of  unseen  frogs,  whose  multitud- 
inous voices  rose  in  chorus,  ranging  the  diapason  of 
croaking,  guttural  sounds.  This  was  no  intermediate 
zone  athwart  the  road  to  Hades,  but  the  frontier  of  a 
region  known  to  some  as  "Sleeping  Waters,"  whose 
chief  city  was  a  garden  on  the  stream's  bank  and  be- 
yond the  distant  trees. 

The  votaries  of  wealth  and  recreation  followed  the 
"Great  North  Road,"  seeking  Ploesti's  oily  treasures 
or  villas  and  a  casino  at  Sinaia,  where  the  gay  world 
of  Bucharest  breathed  mountain  air  in  the  Carpathian 
foothills,  and  summer  heat  was  tempered  amid  peren- 
nial pines. 

"The  Pilgrim's  Way"  was  less  frequented,  but  the 
pilgrims,  though  not  numerous,  were,  not  the  less  select. 
Among  them  were  the  Monarch  and  his  Queen,  the  Prime 
Minister,  the  representatives  of  several  foreign  Powers, 
and  men  and  women  bearing  names  which  rang  like 
echoes  of  Rumania's  history  when  Princes  ruled  the  land. 

If  asked  why  they  made  their  pilgrimage  so  often,  the 


SLEEPING  WATERS  101 

pilgrims  would  have  answered  with  a  half-truth:  "We 
seek  serenity  in  a  garden  fair,  and  shade  and  quiet  after 
the  city's  heat  and  noise" — they  certainly  did  not  go  to 
meet  each  other,  nor  did  they,  like  Chaucer's  characters, 
tell  tales  and  gossip  as  they  fared  along  the  road — they 
went  to  the  same  shrine,  but  went  separately,  they  made 
their  vows  to  the  same  Deity,  but  they  made  them  one  by 
one. 

Two  landmarks  lay  beside  the  road,  serving  as  meas- 
ures of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  both  were  pathetic  and 
symbolical — one  was  a  broken  bridge,  which  was  always 
being  repaired  in  slow  and  dilatory  fashion,  the  other  a 
mill,  which  never  appeared  to  work. 

Bratiano  himself  had  built  bridges  in  his  youth,  and, 
speaking  both  as  expert  and  Prime  Minister,  he  declared 
one  day  that  when  the  bridge  would  be  completely 
mended  Rumania  would  forswear  neutrality  and  join 
the  Allied  Cause.  A  whimsical  conceit  indeed,  but  il- 
lustrative of  its  author's  mood.  When  Italy,  a  Latin 
and  a  sister  State,  bound,  like  Rumania,  by  a  Treaty  to 
both  the  Central  Powers,  had  taken  the  irrevocable  step, 
work  was  resumed  upon  the  bridge  with  greater  energy ; 
but  soon  it  languished,  and  blocks  of  rough-hewn  stone 
encumbered  the  wayside,  mute  symbols  of  the  hesitation 
which  was  still  torturing  a  cautious  statesman's  mind. 

The  mill  stands  at  the  western  end  of  a  broad  reach 
of  the  same  stream  which  traverses  the  realm  of  frogs; 
the  waters,  held  up  by  a  dam,  are  as  still  and  motionless 
as  a  standing  pond,  and  yet  they  once  had  turned  the 
mill  wheel,  although,  no  doubt,  they  had  always  seemed 
to  sleep.  A  village  begins  here  where  the  waters 
broaden;  three  years  ago  it  was  a  straggling  street  of 
squalid  houses,  where  peasants  dwelt  in  the  intervals  of 


102  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

laborious  days.  Rumanian  peasants,  at  this  period,  lived 
under  laws  which  left  them  little  liberty,  and  gave  them 
few  delights.  Their  toil  accumulated  riches  for  their 
masters,  the  hereditary  owners  of  the  soil,  whUe  they 
eked  out  a  scanty  livelihood,  and  though  in  name  free 
men,  in  fact  they  were  half  slaves. 

Peasants  when  slaves  are  seldom  rebels.  Spartacus 
has  won  a  place  in  history  by  being  the  exception  to  the 
rule,  a  rule  well  known  to  men  who  never  read  a  book, 
but  feel  instinctively  that  they  themselves  are  helpless 
to  redress  their  wrongs.  Such  is  the  bitter  truth,  and 
those  who  should  know  better  often  presume  on  it,  until 
their  victims,  exasperated  by  neglect  and  insolence,  lose 
for  a  while  the  habit  of  forbearance,  flame  into  sudden 
anger,  indulge  in  fierce  reprisals,  and  when  exhaustion 
follows  relapse  into  dull  despair.  Wrongs  unredressed 
resemble  pent-up  waters,  which  seek  an  outlet,  useful  or 
wasteful  as  the  case  may  be,  and  finding  none,  in  time 
they  sweep  away  the  stoutest  dam,  causing  widespread 
destruction  by  their  dissipated  force. 

In  1907  a  large  number  of  Rumanian  peasants  had  re- 
volted. Order,  so-called,  had  been  restored  by  employ- 
ing other  peasants,  clothed  in  uniforms,  to  shoot  their 
fellow-sufferers  down.  The  tragedy  of  violence  and  re- 
pression was  of  but  short  duration ;  once  more  the  peas- 
ants resigned  themselves  to  fate,  once  more  their  smould- 
ering passions  were  pent  up  by  a  dam  of  military'-  force. 
Bratiano,  as  leader  of  the  Liberal  Party,  became  Prime 
Minister  at  the  end  of  1913;  he  realized  more  clearly 
than  his  predecessors  that  Rumania's  peasant  popula- 
tion was  one  of  the  country's  greatest  assets,  and  that, 
under  the  then  existing  conditions,  this  asset  was  not 
being  fully  utilized.     His  Government  was  pledged  to  a 


SLEEPING  WATERS  103 

scheme  of  agrarian  reform,  and  began  its  task  with  a 
characteristic  act — money  was  needed,  but  increased 
taxation  meant  loss  of  popularity,  and  so  the  Army  vote 
was  drawn  upon,  and  the  equipment  of  the  troops  neg- 
lected. Like  many  others,  Bratiano  had  refused  to  be- 
lieve that  the  German  people  would  so  abase  themselves 
before  the  Junkers  as  to  permit  the  latter  to  provoke  a 
European  war;  he  had  been  mistaken,  he  had  erred  by 
rating  common  sense  too  high.  When  Germany's  crim- 
inal folly  became  an  accomplished  fact,  it  found  the 
Rumanian  Army  unprepared,  and  shattered  Bratiano 's 
plans.  Rumania,  though  a  neutral  State,  lived  in  the 
shadow  of  the  cataclysm,  perpetually  a  prey  to  excur- 
sions and  alarms;  reforms  in  such  an  atmosphere  were 
impossible,  the  old  abuses  lingered,  the  middle  classes 
reaped  a  golden  harvest,  and  further  claims  were  made 
on  the  patience  of  the  poor. 

Mad  misdirection  and  abuse  of  human  effort  were  dis- 
integrating Central  Europe,  and  had  paralj^sed  progres- 
sive legislation  in  every  neighbouring  State.  During  his 
frequent  pilgrimages,  a  disappointed  statesman  had 
time  for  sombre  meditations,  he  may  have  seen  a  symbol 
of  them  in  a  wide  stretch  of  sleeping  waters  stagnating 
round  a  disused  mill. 

An  avenue  of  elm  trees  leads  westward  from  the  mill, 
skirting  the  water's  edge;  it  runs  in  a  straight  line  on 
level  ground,  and  so,  a  pilgrim  entering  by  the  gate 
could  see  at  the  far  end,  although  it  was  a  kilometre  dis- 
tant, a  walnut  tree  against  a  white  background.  When 
blazing  sunlight  beat  down  on  the  fields  and  swirls  of 
dust  choked  travellers  on  the  road,  this  avenue  was  al- 
ways cool  and  green  and,  like  a  vast  cathedral's  nave, 
soothed  anxious,  troubled  spirits  and  rested  dazzled  eyes. 


104  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

At  all  seasons  of  the  year,  an  innumerable  host  of  rooks 
circled  above  the  elms,  and  from  a  choir  in  the  clouds 
bird-voices  pealed  in  deep-toned  rapturous  erescendos, 
lulling  the  memories  of  petty  strife  and  discord  brought 
from  the  city  in  the  plain. 

Three  years  ago,  a  low  two-storied  building,  in  colour 
mainly  white,  with  wide  verandahs  embowered  in 
creepers,  stood  out  against  the  sky  beyond  the  walnut 
tree.  The  house  faced  south,  on  both  sides  and  behind 
it  were  open  spaces  flanked  by  greenhouses  and  walled 
gardens,  through  which  there  ran  an  avenue  of  Italian 
poplars,  linking  the  ^dllage  with  a  private  chapel;  in 
front,  the  "sleeping  waters"  spread  out  in  their  full 
glory,  a  broad  and  placid  surface  fringed  with  willows, 
which  leaned  away  from  the  supporting  banks  as  though 
they  sought  their  own  reflection.  Between  the  waters 
and  the  house  a  palace  stood,  empty  but  not  a  ruin,  a 
monumental  relic  of  a  bygone  reign  and  period;  stand- 
ing four  square,  crowned  and  protected  by  a  roof  of 
slate.  Such  buildings  can  be  seen  in  Venice  and 
Ragusa,  with  fluted  columns  poised  on  balustrades  of 
rich  and  fanciful  design,  composing  graceful  loggias. 

More  than  two  centuries  have  passed  since  Bassarab 
Brancovan,  a  ruling  prince,  first  brought  Italian  crafts- 
men to  "Wallachia.  The  tokens  of  these  exiles'  art  are 
numerous,  but  nowhere  do  they  find  such  perfect  and 
complete  expression  as  in  this  palace,  built  for  the  prince 
himself,  whose  pale,  brick  walls,  with  fretted  cornices 
and  sculptured  Gothic  windows,  are  mirrored  in  a  glassy 
surface  and  framed  by  willow  trees. 

Within  the  dwelling-house,  the  rooms  looked  larger 
than  they  were,  an  optical  illusion  being  produced  by 
shadows  on  floor  and  ceiling  and  comers  obscured  in 


SLEEPING  WATERS  105 

gloom.  The  curtains  hung  upon  the  walls  like  draperies, 
and  chairs  and  tables  were  disposed  in  groups,  with  an 
unerring  instinct  for  achieving  harmony  between  util- 
ity and  taste.  Flowers  were  never  absent  from  these 
rooms,  and  made  the  house  a  floral  temple,  whose  fore- 
court was  alternately  the  greenhouse  and  the  garden, 
the  former  produced  in  January  what  the  latter  gave  in 
June, 

Such  was  the  shrine — the  presiding  Deity  was  a  lady 
still  young  in  years,  but  learned  in  history  and  the  arts, 
beyond  the  compass  of  most  men.  With  her  there  lived 
her  daughter  and  an  English  governess,  a  peacock  in 
the  garden  and  a  mouse-coloured  Persian  cat. 

Here,  men  whose  lives  were  darkened  by  suspicion 
found  a  rare  atmosphere,  where  mystery  was  physical, 
and  did  not  hide  the  truth;  here,  could  be  learned  the 
story  of  a  race  from  one  whose  memory  was  saturated 
with  traditions,  who  faced  the  future  calmly,  knowing 
its  perils,  sustained  by  hope  and  faith;  here  could  be 
heard  the  twin  voices  of  sanity  and  reason,  expounding 
not  what  Rumania  was  supposed  to  think,  but  what 
Rumania  thought. 

In  Bucharest,  a  very  different  tone  prevailed — senti- 
mentality, not  wholly  free  from  interest,  combined  with 
unscrupulous  propaganda  to  misrepresent  the  issues  be- 
fore the  Rumanian  people  and  the  Government.  Even 
official  representatives  of  the  Allied  Powers  joined  in 
the  conspiracy  of  deception.  In  the  month  of  April, 
1915,  the  French  Military  Attache  announced,  with  all 
the  authority  conferred  by  his  position  and  access  to 
secret  sources  of  information,  that  the  Germans  could 
not  continue  the  war  for  more  than  two  months  from 
the  date  on  which  he  spoke,  as  their  stocks  of  copper 


106  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

were  exhausted ;  the  argument  based  on  this  astounding 
statement  was  that  Rumania  should  intervene  at  once, 
and  lay  hands  on  Transylvania  before  it  would  be  too 
late.  In  private  life  a  man  who  tried  to  gain  advance- 
ment by  such  methods  would  be  locked  up  for  fraud. 

In  England  and  France  the  ignorance  about  Rumania, 
even  in  official  circles,  was  amazing ;  for  knowledge  ready 
substitutes  were  found  in  prejudices  and  preconceived 
ideas.  These  ideas  were  based  on  reports  furnished  by 
Secret  Service  agents  of  the  most  obvious  description, 
whose  exemplars  were  the  villains  in  the  novels  of  Le 
Queux,  and  who  were  regarded  with  amusement  and 
contempt  by  people  on  the  spot.  The  information  thus 
obtained  consisted  of  echoes  from  the  cafes  and  excerpts 
from  the  gutter  press.  It  was  sensational  enough, 
though  mischievous  and  misleading,  and  gave  satisfac- 
tion to  officials  who  never  faced  realities,  unless  they 
suited  their  desires. 

By  certain  circles  at  Bucharest,  the  foibles  of  the 
Allied  Governments  were  systematically  exploited:  poli- 
ticians emerged  from  the  shades  of  opposition  into  a 
meretricious  limelight;  bankers  and  business  men  made 
deals  which  opened  up  an  El  Dorado,  and  social  grudges 
were  revived  under  the  cloak  of  patriotic  zeal.  While 
Rumania  remained  a  neutral  State,  Bucharest  was  a  city 
divided  against  itself.  Two  camps  were  formed,  a  war 
of  words  Avas  waged;  slander  and  calumny  were  the 
weapons,  and  were  wielded  by  both  men  and  women 
with  venom  and  impunity. 

To  minds  possessed  and  poisoned  by  this  ignoble 
strife,  the  calm  serenity  of  "the  sleeping  waters"  was 
anathema;  the  extremists  and  their  partisans  viewed 
with  suspicion  a  detachment  which  was  as  natural  as  it 


SLEEPING  WATERS  107 

was  sincere.  They  could  not  understand,  far  less  for- 
give, an  attitude  of  aloofness  to  their  cliques  and  com- 
binations ;  they  were  enraged  by  such  neglect,  since,  with 
some  reason,  they  took  it  for  disdain.  Thoughtless  them- 
selves, and  caught  up  in  a  vortex  of  mental  confusion 
and  unreason,  they  poured  the  vials  of  their  jealousy 
and  hate  upon  a  head  as  innocent  as  fair,  because  it 
dared  to  think. 

#  *  *  * 

By  a  strange  turn  of  fate,  I  meditate  this  fragment 
of  past  memories  down  by  the  waters  of  Old  Nile.  Be- 
hind me  rise  the  columns  of  a  temple,  whose  capitals 
portray  the  Lotus  and  Papyrus,  signs  of  the  River  God. 
Before  me  lies  the  tank,  where  the  god  lived  three  thou- 
sand years  ago.  By  the  same  path  on  which  I  stand  were 
hurried  shrieking  victims,  as  sacrifices  to  a  crocodile,  an 
animal  so  dangerous  to  river  folk  that  they  worshipped 
it,  and  sought  to  propitiate  the  object  of  their  fear  with 
their  own  flesh  and  blood. 

Man's  nature  has  changed  little  since  those  days;  his 
cruelty  takes  more  subtle  forms,  but  is  not  a  whit  less 
harsh.  His  god  is  Mammon,  and  his  victims  the  poor 
and  weak,  or  those  who,  by  innate  superiority,  are  an 
unconscious  menace  and  reproach.  The  sacrificial  act 
does  not  consist  in  killing — to  Mammon,  oblations  must 
be  made  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  roughly  kill  the  victims 
but  first  to  spoil  their  lives. 


CHAPTER  XI 

The  Disaster  in  Rumania — 1916 

During  the  early  mnoths  of  1916,  Bucharest  had  been 
comparatively  neglected  by  the  Foreign  Offices  of  the 
belligerent  States.  So  far  as  could  be  seen,  the  Central 
Empires  had  abandoned  the  hope  of  obtaining  Rumanian 
co-operation  against  Russia.  Count  Czernin  ^  had  ex- 
pressed himself  openly  to  that  effect,  and  his  German 
colleague,  though  more  discreet,  in  all  probability  shared 
his  views.  The  French  and  Italian  Ministers  were  a 
prey  to  exasperation  and  suspicions;  to  them  it  seemed 
outrageous  that  a  little  Latin  State  should  refuse  to  act 
on  French  advice  or  to  follow  Italy's  example;  their 
prejudices  warped  their  judgment,  they  lost  their  sense 
of  dignity,  and  sank  to  the  level  of  mere  partisans. 
Such  men  could  not  influence  the  coldly  logical  mind  of 
Bratiano,  who  treated  them  with  scorn.  The  British  and 
Russian  Ministers  were  the  buttresses  of  allied  diplomacy 
in  Bucharest.  Both  stood  for  so  much;  one  was  the 
spokesman  of  a  people  whose  good  faith  and  love  of 
fair  play  were  still  unquestioned,  the  other  was  the 
envoy  of  the  only  Allied  Power  in  direct  contact  with 
Rumania,  a  Power  whose  past  conduct  had  justified  mis- 
trust but  whose  size  inspired  fear.  Through  no  fault 
of  their  own,  these  two  men  were  unable  to  exert  their 
proper  influence;  neither  of  them  had  definite  instruc- 

1  Count  Czemin  was  at  this  period  Austro-Hungarian  Minister  in 
Bucharest ;  he  succeeded  Count  Berchtold  as  Chancellor  in  the  Dual 
Monarchy  after  the  death  of  the  Emperor  Francis  Joseph. 

108 


THE  DISASTER  IN  RUMANIA  109 

tions  from  his  Government,  and  both  had  learned,  from 
past  experience,  that  under  such  conditions  it  was  bet- 
ter to  "wait  and  see."  To  any  dispassionate  observer 
on  the  spot,  this  meant — to  wait  on  events  and  see  dis- 
aster come. 

The  perils  of  premature  intervention,  both  for  the 
Allies  and  the  Rumanian  people,  were  only  too  obvious. 
While  Rumania's  sole  link  with  the  Western  Powers 
was  a  precarious  line  of  communications  through  Rus- 
sia, her  neutrality  was  preferable  to  her  alliance;  the 
former  was  no  doubt  unsatisfactory,  but  the  latter  ex- 
posed a  reservoir  of  food  supplies  and  petrol  to  invasion 
from  the  south  and  west.  Even  if  properly  equipped 
and  efficiently  maintained,  the  Rumanian  Army  would 
have  had  no  easy  task;  in  the  absence  of  these  condi- 
tions it  was  madness  to  go  to  war. 

In  Paris,  the  irritation  was  profound.  The  French 
Government  had  assumed  control  of  the  negotiations 
with  the  neutral  Balkan  States,  and  was  mastered  by  an 
impatience  born  of  intolerance  and  fear.  This  frame 
of  mind  had  been  induced  by  a  total  misconception  of 
the  real  facts  of  the  case.  There  was  no  danger  that  the 
Rumanian  people,  however  tempted,  would  join  the  Cen- 
tral Powers.  Bratiano  surveyed  the  European  situation 
through  the  same  telescope  as  the  Allies.  He  saw  their 
final  triumph  clearly,  but  knew  it  was  not  so  close  as 
they  imagined.  His  vision,  perhaps,  had  magnified  the 
distance  by  looking  through  the  larger  end,  but,  unlike 
them,  he  knew  the  complexity  of  the  problem  to  be  dealt 
with  in  the  East ;  they  viewed  it  merely  as  an  adjunct  to 
the  slaughter  in  the  West. 

The  Quai  d'Orsay  was  quite  incapable  of  appreciating 
the  Rumanian  point  of  view ;  its  self-appointed  task  was 


110  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

' '  to  bring  Rumania  in. ' '  Persuasion,  on  moral  and  sen- 
timental grounds,  had  been  unavailing.  Some  details  of 
the  Italian  Treaty  had  leaked  out,  and  had  revealed  a 
marked  absence  of  the  principles  of  self-sacrifice  and 
abnegation,  in  the  cause  of  liberty,  on  the  part  of  a 
greater  Latin  State.  It  was  clear  that  Rumania,  like 
Italy,  would  have  to  get  her  price ;  much  would  depend, 
however,  on  the  way  that  price  was  paid. 

Rumania  claimed  Transylvania,  together  with  Buko- 
vina  and  the  Banat,^  as  her  share  of  the  spoil,  in  the 
event  of  Allied  victory;  she  was  eager  to  fight  for  these 
Austro-Hungarian  provinces,  if  given  a  fighting  chance. 
Unfortunately  for  the  Allies,  no  amount  of  eloquence 
could  improve  the  communications  through  the  Russian 
Empire,  and  a  second  attempt  to  force  the  Dardanelles 
was  excluded  from  their  plans.  Arguments  based  on 
the  presence  of  Allied  troops  at  Salonika,  with  which 
it  was  suggested  the  Rumanian  Army  might  co-operate, 
were  without  effect,  and  the  statement  in  this  connec- 
tion that  the  shortest  way  to  Budapest  was  via  Sofia  was 
regarded  as  more  picturesque  than  true.  The  Rumanian 
Government  had  no  desire  to  make  war  on  the  south 
bank  of  the  Danube,  where  nothing  was  to  be  gained, 
and  the  Rumanian  General  Staff  knew,  from  experience, 
the  difficulties  of  a  Danube  crossing  if  seriously  opposed. 
An  operation  of  this  nature  would  have  absorbed  a  large 
proportion  of  the  Rumanian  forces,  leaving  an  insuffi- 
cient number  to  hold  the  frontier  in  the  Carpathians, 
which  was  longer  than  the  Allied  front  in  France,  while 
the  distance  from  its  nearest  point  to  Bucharest  was 
less  than  100  miles, 

1  An  Hungarian  province  at  the  confluence  of  the  Danube  and  the 
ThelBS,  N.E.  of  Belgrade. 


THE  DISASTER  IN  RUMANIA  111 

The  foregoing  were  some  of  the  obstacles  to  Rumanian 
intervention.  To  overcome  them  by  fair  means  de- 
manded considerable  efforts  from  the  Allies  as  part  of  a 
concerted  plan.  No  such  plan  existed;  France  could 
offer  nothing  except  promises  of  ammunition,  Great  Brit- 
ain could  provide  ships  and  money,  Russia  alone  could 
give  support  and,  if  the  need  arose,  apply  pressure  to 
this  neutral  State. 

The  case  of  Greece  was  simpler.  There,  reluctance 
could  be  dealt  with  and  ''unnatural"  behaviour  pun- 
ished. The  Piraeus  could  be  reached  by  sea,  whereas 
Rumania  was  land-locked  to  the  Allies.  The  Russian 
Empire  was  the  neighbour  and  the  only  highway,  and 
Germany  was  near. 

"All  is  fair  in  love  and  war."  The  Allies  had  passed 
through  the  stage  of  courtship  with  Rumania;  their 
blandishments  and  arguments  had  yielded  no  results. 
Cajolery  of  agents  behind  the  back  of  Bratiano  had  also 
been  tried  and  failed.  Now  they  declared  war  on  her 
neutrality,  and,  through  the  force  of  circumstances,  let 
Russia  take  the  lead. 

The  British  Government  had,  as  usual,  no  policy  in 
the  Balkans,  and  was  amenable  to  French  advice.  A 
series  of  diplomatic  rebuffs  at  Athens  had  confirmed 
our  Foreign  Office  in  its  traditional  attitude  of  disin- 
terestedness, and  the  general  feeling  was  that  Rumania, 
in  common  honestj^  should  intervene,  because  she  had 
accepted  loans.  Some  people  think  that  British  gold  can 
purchase  anything,  including  a  little  country's  soul. 
The  War  Office  Staff  was  absorbed  by  the  operations  in 
France  and  Flanders,  to  the  exclusion  of  all  other  thea- 
tres in  a  world-wide  war.  To  the  strategists  of  White- 
hall the  military  participation  of  Rumania  was  just  an- 


112  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

otlier  "side-show,"  which  they  accepted  with  some  re- 
serves and  treated  as  the  lighter  side  of  the  war;  they 
were  prepared  to  endorse  any  plan  which  did  not  involve 
the  use  of  British  soldiers,  and  left  their  own  selves 
free  to  duplicate  the  work  of  Army  Staffs  and  other  ex- 
ponents of  ''Grand  Tactics"  already  on  the  "Western 
front.  Ignorance  and  indifference  made  these  officers 
the  echoes  of  Frenchmen  who  posed  as  experts ;  the  pro- 
tests of  Englishmen  who  pointed  out  that  the  Rumanian 
Army  was,  figuratively,  * '  in  the  air, ' '  were  brushed  aside 
as  technical  objections,  which  would  have  carried  weight 
in  the  "main  theatre,"  but  were  pretexts,  in  a  "side- 
show," for  inaction  and  delay.  These  military  "Pang- 
losses"  had  chosen  to  forget  their  own  shortsightedness 
and  mismanagement  at  Gallipoli,  the  fate  of  Servia  con- 
tained no  lesson  for  them,  they  urged  Rumania  to  do 
what  they  themselves  would  not  have  done,  and  stilled 
the  voice  of  conscience  with  the  hope  that  all  would  be 
for  the  best  in  the  best  of  all  possible  alliances,  if  not  at 
once  at  any  rate  in  the  end.  What  that  end  would  be 
or  when  it  would  occur,  the  official  mind  could  not  fore- 
see. It  foresaw  nothing  except  a  chance  of  self-advance- 
ment, and  that  it  promptly  seized. 

In  Petrograd  there  had  never  been  great  enthusiasm 
in  regard  to  Rumanian  intervention.  Russian  military 
opinion,  as  expressed  by  the  Grand  Duke  Nicholas  in 
1915,  had  been  opposed  to  an  extension  of  the  Eastern 
front  by  the  Rumanian  Army,  whose  unpreparedness 
was  well  known  to  the  Russian  Staff.  This  reasoning 
had  at  the  time  been  eminently  sound,  and  the  fact  that 
in  the  intervening  period  Bulgaria  had  joined  forces 
with  the  Central  Powers  only  increased  its  cogency. 
Another  factor  supervened:  the  men  who  ruled  Russia 


THE  DISASTER  IN  RUMANIA  113 

at  this  period  had  not  forgotten  Plevna.^  Great  Powers 
dislike  being  under  obligations  to  little  neighbouring 
States,  and  are  apt  to  be  bad  debtors  when  it  comes  to 
paying  debts.  Though  not  over-burdened  with  scruples, 
the  Russian  Government  realized  that,  on  this  occasion, 
a  contract  entered  into  with  Rumania  might  have  to  be 
fulfilled.  The  Pan-Slavist  elements  in  Petrograd  ob- 
jected to  any  aggrandizement  of  the  southern  neighbour, 
and  thought  Rumania's  price  too  high;  in  their  eyes, 
postponement  of  final  victory  was  preferable  to  having, 
for  the  second  time,  so  exacting  a  partner  in  success. 
Hitherto,  Russia  had  worked  to  keep  Rumania  out,  while 
France  and  Great  Britain  tried  to  bring  her  in. 

The  Russian  character  is  a  strange  amalgam;  some  of 
its  moods  are  noble  and  poetic,  others  are  fierce  and 
ruthless  as  those  of  a  wild  beast.  When  the  Allies  had 
used  persuasion  with  Rumania,  Russia  had  stood  aside, 
but  when  a  different  note  was  sounded,  when  growing 
irritation  and  impatience  decided  the  Government  in 
Paris  to  force  Rumania's  hand,  a  ready  and  willing  in- 
strument was  found  in  the  Government  of  the  Czar. 
Here  was  a  policy  which  gave  full  scope  to  strength  and 
cunning;  Great  Britain  and  France  might  preach  moral- 
ity and  justice,  Russia  would  act  with  violence  and  guile. 

From  the  beginning  of  June  onwards,  a  veil  of  secrecy 
shrouded  the  negotiations  of  the  Allies  as  to  the  plan  of 
action  in  Rumania.  The  "High  Contracting  Parties" 
might  well  have  quoted  the  hero "  of  a  double  murder 
when  he  said,  "Not  easily  have  we  three  come  to  this." 
Though  they  were  only  planning  murder,  it  was  essential 

1  In  the  war  of  1877  between  Russia  and  Turkey,  Rumania  had  come 
to  the  rescue  of  Russia  when  the  Russian  army  was  held  up  by  the 
Turks  under  Osman  Pasha  at  Plevna. 

2  The  husband  of  Francesca  da  Rimini,  who  killed  his  wife  and  her 
lover. 


114  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

for  that  plan's  success  to  protect  it  from  all  criticism 
until  it  had  done  its  work. 

Early  in  July  the  first  overt  move  was  made.  It 
took  the  form  of  a  message  from  Russian  General  Head- 
quarters, and  was  sent  by  General  Alexieff,  the  Chief  of 
Staff  of  all  the  Russian  armies,  who,  of  course,  acted  in 
his  Imperial  master's  name.  The  general  tenor  of  this 
communication  was  to  the  effect  that  a  favourable  oppor- 
tunity had  presented  itself  for  Rumania's  intervention, 
which,  if  not  seized  without  delay,  might  pass  irrevoc- 
ably, since  her  assistance  would  no  longer  be  required 
and  she  would  not  even  be  permitted  to  make  a  triumphal 
entry  into  Transylvania;  the  concluding  words  were, 
"Now  or  never."  A  statement,  a  taunt,  and  a  threat 
made  up  the  Russian  ultimatum,  for  it  was  nothing  else, 
and,  as  was  only  fitting,  it  was  communicated  by  the 
Russian  Military  Attache  to  the  Rumanian  Chief  of 
Staff  and  to  the  Prime  Minister  in  his  dual  capacity  of 
Minister  for  War.  Within  a  few  days,  the  British  and 
French  Military  Attaches  received  instructions  from 
their  respective  War  Offices  to  endorse  the  communica- 
tion made  verbally  by  their  Russian  colleague.  So  far, 
apparently,  the  Allied  Ministers  in  Bucharest  had  had  no 
instructions  in  the  matter,  and  two  of  them,  at  least, 
continued  to  "wait  and  see." 

After  the  first  shock  of  disgust,  Bratiano  was  inclined 
to  pay  no  attention  to  proceedings  so  irregular,  as  to 
suggest  ignorance  of  international  usages  on  the  part  of 
certain  officers,  although  they  were  Chiefs  of  Staff.  He 
may  have  been  right  about  their  ignorance,  but  the  sec- 
ond move  must  have  dispelled  any  doubts  as  to  their 
pertinacity  and  intentions.  It  emanated  from  Paris  and 
from  a  distinguished  military  authority.     General  Joffre 


THE  DISASTER  IN  RUMANIA  115 

instructed  the  French  Military  Attache  to  inform  the 
Rumanian  War  Office  that  the  Central  Empires  could 
not  send  more  than  ten  divisions  to  operate  against  Ru- 
mania; five  of  these  would  be  German  and  five  Austro- 
Ilungarian  divisions.  The  latter  were  described  as  being 
of  inferior  class.  No  reference  was  made  to  Bulgarian 
or  Turkish  forces,  an  omission  which  justified  the  infer- 
ence that  those  already  on  the  southern  frontier  could 
not  be  reinforced.  The  British  and  Russian  Attaches 
were  instructed  to  confirm  this  estimate.  The  Ital- 
ian attache  had  standing  orders  from  his  War  Office, 
under  all  and  any  circumstances,  to  agree  with  the 
other  three. 

General  Joffre  was  much  respected  in  Rumania.  His 
opinion  on  military  matters  could  not  fail  to  impress  a 
civilian,  and  that  opinion  had  been  uttered  in  no  uncer- 
tain voice.  For  the  first  time,  Bratiano  wavered.  The 
Rumanian  Army  consisted  of  sixteen  divisions,  of  which 
ten  were  fairly  well  equipped.  If  Joffre 's  estimate  of 
enemy  forces  were  correct,  the  invasion  of  Transylvania 
could  be  undertaken  with  fair  chances  of  success. 
Agents  reported  that  Germany  was  weakening  and  that 
Austro-Hungary  was  verging  on  collapse;  there  might 
be  some  truth  in  the  Russian  General's  statement,  and 
perhaps  "le  moment  opportun"  had  come. 

The  Prime  Minister  was  the  son  of  a  great  Rumanian 
patriot  and  wished  to  follow  in  his  father's  steps;  the 
father  had  united  two  Principalities  in  a  kingdom,  the 
son  had  set  himself  the  task  of  extending  that  kingdom 
beyond  the  western  mountains,  and  aspired  to  be  the 
architect  of  the  Greater  Rumania  of  his  father's  pro- 
phetic dreams.  Fear  of  not  winning  makes  men  gamble, 
and  this  anticipatory  fear  pervaded  Bratiano 's  mind; 


116  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

he  in  whom  courage  went  with  pride  now  quailed  before 
prospective  self-reproach. 

Allied  diplomacy  was  quick  to  perceive  the  effect  of 
the  first  two  moves ;  these  had  been,  respectively,  a  threat 
and  an  assurance,  the  third  was  a  promise :  before  Ru- 
mania intervened,  General  Sarrail  's  ^  army  would  make 
an  offensive  on  a  scale  large  enough  to  prevent  the  dis- 
patch of  enemy  reinforcements  from  the  Salonika  front 
to  the  Dobrudja  or  the  Danube.  The  strength  of  the 
enemy  forces  in  Northern  Bulgaria  was  variously  esti- 
mated, but  the  Rumanian  General  Staff  was  informed 
that  their  figures  were  exaggerated  and  an  emphatic 
denial  was  given  as  to  the  presence  of  Turkish  troops. 
The  Allied  Intelligence  Service  overlooked  the  fact  that 
Rumania  still  had  her  representatives  in  Sofia,  and 
among  them  at  least  one  officer  who  had  both  eyes  and 
ears. 

About  this  time  the  Bulgarian  Government  made  over- 
tures to  the  Rumanian  Prime  Minister  in  regard  to  a 
separate  peace.  How  far  these  overtures  were  sincere  it 
would  be  hard  to  say.  Their  purpose  was  to  use  Ru- 
mania as  an  intermediarj^ ;  their  effect  was  to  remove  the 
last  misgivings  from  Bratiano's  mind.  He  attached  no 
great  importance  to  the  Salonika  offensive,  except 
so  far  as  it  might  strengthen  Bulgaria's  desire  for 
peace. 

By  the  end  of  July  the  negotiations  for  Rumanian  iji- 
tervention  were  far  advanced.  In  these,  Russia  played 
the  leading  part ;  proposals  and  counter-proposals  passed 
continually  between  Russian  Headquarters  and  the  Ru- 
manian War  Office,  while  in  Petrograd  acquiescence  was, 
at  last,  obtained  for  the  full  payment  of  Rumania's  price. 

1  The  French  General  commanding  the  Allied  Forces  at  Salonika. 


I 


THE  DISASTER  IN  RUMANIA  117 

On  August  16  a  Treaty  and  Military  Convention  were 
signed  by  Bratiano  and  the  representatives  of  the  four 
leading  Allied  States.  The  Treaty  guaranteed  to  Ru- 
mania, in  the  event  of  the  Allies  being  victorious,  all  the 
territory  she  claimed  in  Austria-Hungary,  including  the 
whole  of  the  region  called  the  Banat  at  the  confluence  of 
the  Danube  and  the  Theiss.  In  the  Military  Conven- 
tion, the  Allies  promised,  among  other  things : 

An  offensive  on  the  Salonika  front,  to  begin  ten  days 
before  Rumania's  first  act  of  war; 

A  Russian  offensive  in  the  Carpathians  during  Ru- 
mania's mobilization; 

The  dispatch  of  Russian  forces  to  the  Dobruja,  con- 
sisting of  two  infantry  divisions  and  one  cavalry  divi- 
sion; 

Supplies  of  ammunition  delivered  in  Rumania  at  the 
rate  of  300  tons  per  day, 

Rumania,  on  her  side,  undertook  to  declare  war  against 
and  attack  Austria-Hungary  with  all  her  land  and  sea 
forces,  at  latest,  ten  days  after  the  commencement  of  the 
Allied  offensive  on  the  Salonika  front.  The  declaration 
of  war  was  to  be  made  on  the  first  day  of  mobilization, 
when  it  was  agreed  the  Rumanian  frontier  troops  would 
attack  the  Austro-Hungarian  position  in  the  Carpathian 
passes.  The  only  reference  to  any  enemy  State  other 
than  Austria-Hungary  concerned  Bulgaria;  it  was  in- 
direct, since  it  applied  to  the  Russian  forces  to  be  sent 
to  the  Dobruja,  and  laid  down  that  these  would  co- 
operate with  the  Rumanians  against  the  Bulgars,  al- 
though the  Treaty  of  Alliance  did  not,  as  regards  the 
latter  people,  envisage  a  state  of  war.  In  this  connec- 
tion there  had  been  a  difference  of  opinion  between  the 
French  and  Russians ;  the  former  still  hankered  after  an 


118  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

invasion  of  Bulgaria,  the  latter  insisted  that  Rumania's 
main  effort  should  be  made  in  Transylvania.  The  Rus- 
sian point  of  view  had  prevailed,  owing  to  the  fact  that 
the  Rumanian  General  Staff  refused  to  undertake  any 
operations  against  Bulgaria  without  reinforcements  of  at 
least  150,000  Russian  troops.  General  Alexieff  declared 
he  could  not  spare  this  number,  and  was  reluctant  to 
spare  even  three  divisions  for  the  protection  of  Rumania 
beyond  a  certain  line.  That  line,  as  events  soon  proved, 
was  not  in  the  Southern  Carpathians  nor  on  the  Danube ; 
it  was  the  shortest  line  between  his  own  left  flank  and 
the  coast  of  the  Black  Sea. 

During  the  night  of  August  27-28,  the  first  act  of 
war  took  place ;  Rumanian  troops  stormed  and  captured 
the  enemy  position  in  the  Carpathians  along  the  whole 
length  of  frontier,  and  on  the  following  day  war  was 
declared  formally  against  Austria-Hungary.  The  news 
was  flashed  throughout  the  world  and  was  considered  a 
triumph  for  the  Allies.  The  wildest  stories  circulated; 
the  Rumanian  Army  was  described  as  well-equipped  and 
numerous,  a  host  unwearied  by  the  strain  of  war  and 
capable  of  marching  through  the  mountains  as  far  as 
Budapest.  In  Paris,  joy  bordered  on  hysteria,  self-satis- 
faction knew  no  limits,  and  the  men  who  had  planned 
this  master-stroke  were  the  heroes  of  the  hour.  London 
and  Petrograd  were  less  excited;  official  appetites  were 
whetted  but  not  yet  satisfied ;  in  the  former,  Rumanian 
intervention  was  still  regarded  as  a  "side-show";  in  the 
latter,  some  schemers  saw  the  curtain  rising  on  a  new 
drama  in  the  East.  The  mass  of  people  in  the  Allied 
States  knew  nothing  about  the  situation,  but,  like  the 
"Tommies"  in  the  trenches,  they  cheered  the  long- 
awaited  tidings  that  Rumania  had  come  in. 


THE  DISASTER  IN  RUMANIA  119 

Germany  at  once  made  common  canse  with  Austria- 
Hungary.  The  German  Minister  ^  in  Bucharest  left  the 
Rumanian  capital,  under  escort,  disgruntled  if  not  sur- 
prised. Events  had  moved  too  quickly  for  this  diplomat. 
The  inevitable  had  happened.  He  had  all  along  fore- 
seen it ;  his  annoyance  was  due  to  the  fact  that  it  had 
come  too  soon.  He  left  behind  him  tell-tale  proofs  of 
the  baseness  to  which  his  country  could  descend  in  order 
to  win  a  war ;  if  his  departure  had  not  been  so  hurried, 
the  means  for  poisoning  a  city's  water  would  either  have 
been  taken  with  him  or  put  to  fearful  use.  As  the  train 
in  which  he  travelled  was  crossing  the  River  Sereth,"  he 
said  to  the  officer  of  the  escort,  "Here  is  the  future  fron- 
tier between  Austria-Hungary  and  Russia."  He  may 
have  been  merely  speculating,  as  any  cynic  might,  or,  on 
the  other  hand,  he  may  have  had  an  inkling  of  Russia's 
secret  plans.  This  river  marked  the  shortest  line  be- 
tween the  Russian  left  in  the  Carpathians  and  the  coast 
of  the  Black  Sea.  North  of  it  lay  Moldavia,  a  pastoral 
land  and  poor;  south  of  it  lay  Wallachia,  teeming  with 
com  and  oil.  Rumania  was  a  pygmy  State  and  had  en- 
tered on  a  war  of  giants ;  to  both  her  greater  neighbours 
it  would  not  have  been  displeasing  if  she  were  broken  on 
the  wheel.  In  Petrograd,  it  was  rumoured  that  certain 
members  of  the  Government  were  inclined  for  a  separate 
peace,  and  it  was  common  knowledge  that  the  Central 
Empires  stood  in  desperate  need  of  Wallachia 's  resources. 
To  an  intelligent  German  diplomat,  these  were  the  ele- 
ments of  a  deal. 

The  details  of  the  campaign  in  Rumania  will  form  the 
subject  of  a  detailed  history  and,  in  so  far  as  the  conduct 

1  Baron  von  der  Biische ;  he  became  later  Under-Secretary  of  State 
In  the  Foreign  Office  at  Berlin. 

2  The  River   Sereth  divides  Wallachia   from   Moldavia. 


120  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

of  the  Rumanian  peasants  was  concerned,  will  furnish 
a  record  of  heroism  and  endurance  unsurpassed  in  any 
theatre  of  war.  From  the  very  outset  the  Rumanian 
General  Staff  was  confronted  with  the  impossible  task 
of  undertaking  simultaneously  an  offensive  in  a  moun- 
tainous country  and  holding  two  lengthy  frontiers  con- 
verging in  a  narrow  salient.  In  most  essential  respects 
the  Allies  broke  their  promises,  as  set  forth  in  the  Con- 
vention they  had  signed.  Ten  days  after  the  first  in- 
vasion of  Transylvania,  General  Sarrail  announced  that 
the  preparations  for  his  offensive  were  "pursuing  their 
normal  course,"  an  offensive  which  should  have  started 
some  twenty  days  before.  The  Russians  remained  inac- 
tive in  the  Carpathians  and,  so  far  from  anticipating  the 
forward  movement  of  the  Rumanian  Army,  failed  to  co- 
operate when  it  had  been  made.  The  supplies  of  ammu- 
nition, so  confidently  promised,  arrived  in  driblets;  the 
average  quantity  received  was  80  tons  per  day. 

To  the  surprise  of  both  Bratiano  and  the  Government 
in  Petrograd,  Bulgaria  acted  with  her  Allies.  Up  to  the 
last  moment  the  Prime  Minister  had  believed  in  the  sin- 
cerity of  the  peace  overtures,  and  most  Russian  officers 
were  convinced  that  their  mere  presence  in  the  Dobruja 
would  have  a  pacifying  effect.  In  the  event,  Bulgarian 
forces  attacked  (without  a  declaration  of  war)  the  Ru- 
manian bridgeheads  on  the  south  bank  of  the  Danube 
and  invaded  the  Dobruja,  where  they  were  reinforced  by 
Turks.  A  situation  had  arisen  which  had  not  been  fore- 
seen in  the  Military  Convention.  The  southern  frontier 
was  now  seriously  threatened,  and  the  Russian  detach- 
ment was  not  strong  enough,  in  co-operation  with  six 
weak  Rumanian  divisions,  to  hold  it  throughout  its 
length. 


THE  DISASTER  IN  RUMANIA  121 

General  Joffre's  estimate  of  the  enemy  forces  which 
could  be  brought  against  Rumania,  so  far  from  being 
approximately  exact,  was  eventually  exceeded  more  than 
threefold.  Fresh  troops  were  continually  launched 
against  the  wearied  Rumanian  soldiers,  who,  from  sheer 
fatigue,  at  last  became  demoralized.  Retreats  followed 
in  quick  succession  on  the  first  brilliant  advance  in 
Transylvania;  the  Rumanians  were  forced  to  abandon 
all  their  conquests,  since,  at  every  point  of  contact,  they 
were  outnumbered  and  outgunned.  Paris  and  London 
were  not  sparing  in  advice,  but  of  that  Rumania  had  no 
need.  She  needed  guns  and  men ;  Russia  alone  could 
give  them  and,  for  the  moment,  Russia  would  not  give. 
A  storm  of  criticism  now  arose.  The  men  who  had 
forced  Rumania's  hand  perceived  that  disaster  was  im- 
pending, they  sought  an  explanation  for  it,  and  blamed 
the  Rumanian  troops. 

"War,  it  is  claimed,  discovers  manj-  virtues.  It  does 
not  create  them  but  it  does  provide  an  opportunity  for 
their  exploitation  by  men  who  do  not  fight  on  battle- 
fields. To  these  latter,  war  is  Jack  Horner's  pie;  they 
pull  out  all  the  plums  complacently,  and  sit  in  safe  but 
not  secluded  corners,  clinging  like  limpets  to  official  rank. 
They  mask  with  mystery  their  mediocrity  and  take  the 
line  of  least  resistance.  Success  in  life  has  taught  them 
that  responsibility,  especially  when  moral,  is  one  of  the 
things  to  shirk.  They  never  are  to  blame  when  failure 
issues  from  their  plans;  that  is  the  fault  of  other  men, 
who  are  simple  enough  to  fight. 

While  such  men  retain  their  present  influence,  the 
peoples  must  prepare  for  war.  No  League  of  Nations 
will  control  them ;  they  will  control  the  League. 

On   November  24,   a  detachment  of   German  troops 


122  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

crossed  the  Danube  56  miles  south-west  of  Bucharest, 
under  cover  of  a  thick  fog.  The  end  had  come.  Buchar- 
est was  doomed;  enemy  forces  were  converging  on  the 
capital  from  three  directions ;  they  were  already  in  pos- 
session of  the  rich  com  lands  of  "W^allachia,  and  were 
threatening  the  oilfields  both  from  the  north  and  west. 
The  Rumanian  General  Staff  made  a  last  appeal  for  Rus- 
sian reinforcements  and  some  were  sent,  but  their  move- 
ments were  so  slow  and  their  co-operation  so  half-hearted, 
that  even  Russian  representatives  at  Rumanian  Head- 
quarters joined  in  indignant  protests. 

As  early  as  September,  General  Alexieff  had  advised 
a  retirement  to  the  Sereth,  although  he  must  have  real- 
ized that  such  an  operation  involved  abandoning,  with- 
out a  struggle,  the  two  main  objectives  of  the  Central 
Empires,  viz.,  the  resources  of  Wallachia  and  access  to 
the  Danube  ports  between  Galatz  and  the  Iron  Gate. 
If  this  man  was  honest,  he  was  incompetent ;  no  other 
explanation  can  be  given  of  such  fatal  obstinacy  and 
pride.  His  advice  had  not  been  taken,  so  he  left  "Walla- 
chia unsupported  and  flooded  Moldavia  with  Russian 
Army  Corps.  These  troops  lived  on  the  country-side 
like  locusts  and  drained  it  of  supplies,  but  they  did  not 
make  the  offensive  so  long  promised,  that  was  indefinitely 
postponed. 

Despondency  and  alarm  pervaded  Bucharest.  The 
civilian  elements  did  not  fear  the  Germans,  but  they 
dreaded  the  Turks  and  Bulgars,  whose  atrocities  in  the 
Dobruja  had  appalled  the  stoutest  hearts.  The  seat  of 
Government  had  been  transferred  to  Jassy,  a  few  offi- 
cials had  remained,  but  their  loyalty  was  more  than 
doubtful  to  what  appeared  a  losing  cause.  The  popula- 
tion of  the  city  was  like  a  flock  of  sheep  without  its  shep- 


THE  DISASTER  IN  RUMANIA  123 

herd  and  wandered  aimlessly  about,  seeking  for  informa- 
tion and  encouragement  which  no  honest  man  could  give. 
Orders  had  been  posted  broadcast,  instructing  the  in- 
habitants to  stay  quietly  in  their  homes.  So  far,  the 
poorer  people  had  obeyed  and  watched,  with  patient  if 
puzzled  resignation,  the  departure  of  the  rich  and  priv- 
ileged in  motor  cars  and  trains.  South  of  the  town  a 
battle  was  in  progress,  and  bulletins  from  Presan  ^  spoke 
of  a  great  success ;  the  simple  were  hoping  for  a  victory, 
which  would  save  their  hearths  and  homes. 

Throughout  the  war,  a  flag  had  waved  over  the  Royal 
Palace,  and,  though  the  King  and  Queen  had  left,  dur- 
ing these  first  days  of  Rumania's  agony,  it  had  remained 
unfurled,  for  the  palace  was  a  hospital  and  under  Royal 
care.  To  anxious  watchers  in  the  street,  this  flag  was  a 
comfort  and  a  sign ;  it  proved  the  presence  of  some  occu- 
pants, who,  if  danger  threatened,  would  surely  be 
removed.  One  morning,  early  in  December,  the  peo- 
ple walking  past  the  palace  saw  that  the  flag  had 
gone. 

The  army  in  the  south  had  been  defeated  and  was  in 
full  retreat.  Hundreds  of  wounded  men  and  stragglers 
confirmed  the  rumours  of  disaster ;  they  were  its  human 
symbols,  their  broken  and  dejected  mien  banished  all 
optimistic  doubts. 

An  exodus  ensued;  an  exodus  as  unpremeditated  as 
it  was  unreasoning.  The  fugitives  did  not  consider  why 
they  fled,  nor  whither  they  would  go:  they  were  un- 
nerved by  months  of  strain  and  almost  daily  bombing: 
an   uncontrollable    impulse   forced   them   to   leave    the 

1  Presan  was  one  of  Rumania's  ablest  generals ;  bfe  had  commanded 
the  Northern  Army  at  the  commencement  of  hostilities,  and  was  en- 
trusted with  the  direction  of  the  operations  for  the  defence  of  Bucharest. 
After  the  retreat  into  Moldavia  he  became  Chief  of  Staff  to  the  King. 


124  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

stricken  town.  A  motley  crowd,  on  foot  and  horseback, 
in  every  sort  of  vehicle,  in  every  stage  of  misery 
and  despair,  streamed  past  the  lime  trees  of  the 
Chaussee  Kisileff  and  surged  up  the  Great  North 
Road. 

The  season  was  far  advanced.  Out  of  the  north-east 
came  an  eager  wind  and  snow  began  to  fall,  large  flakes 
fell  softly  but  persistently  from  a  surcharged,  leaden 
sky,  and  lay  upon  the  country-side  like  a  widespreading 
shroud;  a  shroud  for  many  little  children,  their  inno- 
cence had  not  availed  to  save  them;  cunning  and  selfish- 
ness are  better  safeguards  than  youth  and  innocence  in 
time  of  war. 

I  caught  up  what  might  be  called  the  rearguard  of 
this  lamentable  procession  two  miles  to  the  south  of  a 
little  Wallachian  town,  which  lay  close  to  the  frontier  of 
Moldavia  and  General  Alexieff's  shortest  line.  Motor 
cars,  country  carts  and  w^agons  stood  four  abreast  across 
the  road  in  a  long  column  stretching  northwards,  whose 
immobility  impeded  further  progress,  however  slow; 
the  gathering  darkness  and  exhaustion  had  set  a  period 
to  this  tragic  flight. 

On  foot,  I  reached  the  Headquarters  of  Count  Keller, 
the  commander  of  a  Russian  Cavalry  Corps;  the  Gen- 
eral had  just  finished  dinner  when  I  entered,  and,  per- 
haps for  this  reason,  his  outlook  on  the  situation  was 
less  gloomy  than  otherwise  it  might  have  been.  Count 
Keller  was  not  devoid  of  human  feeling,  the  welter  of 
suffering  outside  his  lodging  would  have  touched  a  heart 
of  stone ;  but,  as  a  soldier,  he  was  filled  with  indignation 
against  the  Rumanian  Government,  for  having  permitted 
thousands  of  civilians  to  use  the  only  highway  in  this 
region,  and  thereby  to  block,  for  two  whole  days,  the 


THE  DISASTER  IN  RUMANIA  125 

forward  movement  of  his  corps.  The  obvious  retort  was 
that  his  presence  there  was  useless:  he  had  arrived  two 
months  too  late. 

On  the  following  day,  the  refugees  from  Wallachia 
crossed  the  Sereth  into  Moldavia,  and  found  security  be- 
hind a  screen  composed  of  Russian  troops.  About  half 
a  million  Russian  soldiers  had  arrived  in  the  Northern 
Principality  and  more  were  yet  to  come.  "Wild,  uncouth 
Cossacks  swarmed  in  every  village,  their  first  thoughts 
plunder  and  the  satisfaction  of  gross  appetites;  some 
tried  to  sell  their  splendid  horses  for  alcohol  in  any 
form. 

The  first  act  of  the  Rumanian  tragedy  was  drawing 
to  its  close.  A  little  Latin  country  had  yielded  to  bribes 
and  threats  and  had  entered,  under  Russian  auspices, 
into  a  European  war.  Now  it  lay  crushed  and  broken, 
the  victim  of  two  invasions:  one,  by  the  enemy  in  the 
south ;  the  other,  by  Russians  in  the  north. 

The  Western  Powers  were  lavish  in  their  sympathy; 
they  had  little  else  to  give  and  were  the  helpless  wit- 
nesses of  the  evil  they  had  done.  In  France,  a  restless, 
ignorant  optimism  had  conceived  a  selfish  plan;  Great 
Britain  had  endorsed  it,  and  Russia,  in  the  name  of 
Allied  interests,  had  pursued  a  traditional  Russian  pol- 
icy, which  had  been  both  sinister  and  obscure. 

"He  that  builds  a  fair  house  upon  an  ill  seat,  com- 
mitteth  himself  to  prison."  In  1912,  the  Great  Powers, 
of  those  days,  had  laid  the  foundations  of  their  policy 
in  the  Balkans.  Ignorance,  inertia,  selfishness  and  greed 
had  characterized  their  statecraft :  an  ill  seat  this  on 
which  to  build,  but  one  well  fitted  for  a  pj^ramid  of 
errors.  That  pyramid  was  rising  fast  and  one  more 
block  had  just  been  added,  an  error  as  tragic  as  the  rest. 


126  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

Though  no  fair  house,  it  was  to  hold  its  master  builders 
like  a  prison;  for  one  among  them, — Tsarist  Russia,  it 
was  destined  to  fulfil  its  proper  function — the  function 
of  a  tomb. 


CHAPTER  XII 

The  Russian  Revolution  and  the  Russo-Rumanian 
Offensive — 1917 

By  the  middle  of  January,  1917,  the  front  in  Rumania 
had  become  stabilized  on  what  was,  in  point  of  fact,  Gen- 
eral Alexieff's  shortest  line.  This  line  had  its  right 
near  Dorna  Vatra^  (the  Russian  left  before  Rumania 
intervened)  and  traversed  the  Carpathian  foothills  until 
it  reached  the  Sereth  Valley,  north-east  of  the  town  of 
Focsani ;  thence  it  followed  the  left  bank  of  the  river  to 
its  junction  with  the  Danube  close  to  Galatz.  East  of 
this  latter  place  the  front  was  vague  and  variable,  the 
swampy  region  round  the  Danube's  mouth  being  a  ver- 
itable ''No  Man's  Land." 

Nearly  a  million  Russian  soldiers  had,  by  this  time, 
been  sent  into  Moldavia;  they  were  organized  in  thir- 
teen cavalry  divisions  and  a  dozen  army  corps.  The 
Rumanian  Army  had  been  reduced  by  losses  and  disor- 
ganization to  six  weak  divisions ;  these  held  a  sector  of 
the  front  about  twenty  miles  in  length. 

Winter  weather  and  mutual  exhaustion  precluded  the 
immediate  continuation  of  hostilities,  and  the  opposing 
armies  faced  each  other  under  conditions  of  discomfort 
which  could  hardly  have  been  worse. 

During  this  period  of  comparative  calm,  it  was  pos- 

1  Dorna  Vatra  is  a  town  In  the  Carpathians  on  the  S.W.  frontier  of 
Bukovina. 

127 


128  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

sible  to  appreciate  the  situation  both  from  an  Allied  and 
an  enemy  point  of  view. 

The  Allies  had,  undoubtedly,  lost  prestige.  Great 
Britain  had  forfeited  the  confidenee  which  had  been 
our  most  precious  asset  in  the  earlier  stages  of  the  war ; 
the  British  Government  was  regarded  by  Rumanians  as 
the  tool  of  French  and  Russian  diplomacy,  and  our  warm- 
est partisans  found  little  comfort  in  benevolent  intentions 
which  M^ere  never  translated  into  deeds.  The  French 
burked  criticism,  to  some  extent,  by  an  immense  display 
of  energj^  Hundreds  of  officers  and  men  were  incor- 
porated in  the  Rumanian  Army,  who  by  their  spirit  and 
example  did  much  to  raise  the  morale  of  the  troops.  The 
Russians,  to  a  greater  degree  than  ever,  inspired  dis- 
trust and  fear.  The  Germanophiles  in  Rumania  had  al- 
ways been  Russophobes;  during  this  period  they  gained 
many  new  adherents,  both  in  the  army  and  the  business 
class. 

Allied  prestige,  and  more  especially  that  of  Great 
Britain,  could  have  been  restored  by  a  decisive  success 
in  a  direction  which  would  have  enabled  Rumania  to 
recommence  hostilities,  in  the  spring  or  summer,  inde- 
pendently of  Russia.  That  direction  was  obviously  Con- 
stantinople, the  key  of  the  Near  East ;  no  other  remedy 
for  Rumania's  plight  was  either  practicable  or  just. 

The  loss  of  Wallachia  had  deprived  Rumania  of  four- 
fifths  of  her  food  supplies,  almost  all  her  petrol  and  her 
principal  railway  centres.  Moldavia  had  to  support,  in 
addition  to  the  normal  population,  thousands  of  refugees 
from  Wallachia  and,  to  a  great  extent,  the  Russian 
forces.  So  defective  were  the  road  and  railway  com- 
munications, that  the  supply  services  functioned  only 
with  the  greatest  difficulty  while  the  troops  remained  at 


RUSSIAN  REVOLUTION  129 

rest.  To  attempt  to  even  utilize  this  region  as  an  ad- 
vanced base  for  offensive  operations  was  to  invite  defeat. 
Operations  on  a  large  scale  for  the  recovery  of  Wallachia 
could  only  have  been  carried  out  by  using  the  Danube 
as  a  supplementary  line  of  communication ;  to  do  so,  it 
was  essential  for  the  Allies  to  be  undisputed  masters  of 
the  Black  Sea,  and  this  involved  a  reinforcement  of  the 
Russian  Fleet.  While  the  Dardanelles  remained  in 
enemy  hands,  the  Black  Sea  was  as  much  German  and 
Turkish  as  it  was  Russian;  naval  engagements  were  of 
rare  occurrence  and  invariably  indecisive. 

Speculation  was  busy  at  Rumanian  Headquarters  as  to 
the  invaders'  future  course  of  action.  If  further  con- 
quests were  envisaged,  their  position  on  the  Danube  con- 
ferred on  them  the  power  of  turning  the  left  flank  of 
the  Sereth  line  by  the  occupation  of  Galatz,  against 
which  place  their  communications  by  rail  and  river 
would  have  made  possible  the  rapid  concentration  of 
numerically  superior  forces.  Once  in  possession  of 
Galatz,  the  invasion  of  Bessarabia  could  have  been  un- 
dertaken, since  the  establishment  of  an  Allied  front  on 
the  line  of  the  River  Pruth  ^  would  have  been  fore- 
stalled. 

The  Central  Empires,  however,  made  no  serious  effort 
to  capture  Galatz;  they  appeared  to  be  content  with 
Braila  and  complete  control  of  the  Danube  Valley  be- 
tween that  port  and  the  Iron  Gate.  From  a  strategical 
point  -of  view  their  position  was  good.  An  immense 
force  of  Russians  was  immobilized  in  Moldavia  and  held 
there  by  the  threat  to  Odessa;  this  force  could  only  be 
freed  for  offensive  operations  by  a  complete  reversal  of 
Allied  policy  in  the  Near  East,  a  contingency  not  likely 

1  The  River  Pruth  defines  part  of  the  frontier  between  Rumania  and 
Bessarabia  and  enters  the  Danube  at  Galatz. 


130  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

to  occur.  In  the  meantime,  the  stocks  of  corn  in  Walla- 
chia  were  being  transferred  to  Germany  and  restorative 
measures  were  being  taken  in  the  oil  fields,  where  the 
machinery  and  plant  had  been  destroyed  in  wholesale 
fashion  during  the  retreat. 

Famine  was  approaching  in  Moldavia  and  typhus  was 
raging  in  the  towns  and  countryside,  when  the  Allies 
convened  a  conference  at  Petrograd  to  determine  their 
future  plans. 

General  Gourko  had  replaced  General  Alexieff  as 
Chief  of  the  Russian  Staff,  owing  to  the  illness  of  the 
latter.  At  the  outset  of  the  Conference,  Russia's  prin- 
cipal military  delegate  submitted  an  appreciation  of  the 
military  situation  which,  in  so  far  as  it  concerned  Ru- 
mania, either  displayed  an  inexcusable  ignorance  of  the 
facts  or  was  intentionally  false.  He  described  new  rail- 
way lines  in  Bessarabia  as  approaching  completion, 
whose  construction  could  not  be  commenced  before  the 
spring  was  far  enough  advanced  to  melt  the  ice  and 
snow ;  on  such  premises  as  these  he  based  a  plan  of  oper- 
ations, which  even  Russian  Generals  on  the  spot  described 
as  suicide.  The  other  Allied  representatives  listened 
with  grateful  ears;  for  them,  a  Russo-Rumanian  offen- 
sive in  the  spring  had  many  great  advantages — it  would 
relieve  the  pressure  on  the  Western  front  and  help 
Cadorna  on  the  Carso.  They  argued  that  if  the  General 
Staff  in  Petrograd  thought  this  offensive  could  be  made, 
it  was  the  best  solution  of  the  problem,  and  all  that  re- 
mained for  them  to  do  was  to  arrange  for  liberal  supplies 
of  war  material  and  guns. 

It  is  difficult  to  believe  that  the  Government  of  the 
Czar,  had  it  survived,  would  have  permitted  this  offen- 
sive to  take  place;  a  few  ambitious  Generals  may  have 


RUSSIAN  REVOLUTION  131 

been  in  favour  of  it,  but  the  rulers  of  Russia  had  real- 
ized that  autocracies  which  made  war  on  the  Central 
Empires,  were  undermining  the  last  barrier  against  the 
advancing  flood  of  democratic  sentiment,  and  were,  in 
fact,  cutting  their  own  throats.  Both  at  the  Imperial 
Court  and  in  Government  circles,  German  influence  was 
gaining  ground,  and  the  Russian  people  as  a  whole  were 
profoundly  pessimistic.  Germany  was  considered  irre- 
sistible, officers  of  high  rank  admitted  that  if  Maekensen 
invaded  Bessarabia,  salvation  could  be  found  only  in 
retreat.  They  talked  of  a  retirement  to  the  Volga  even, 
and  the  Rumanians  listened  with  dismay. 

In  all  human  probability,  the  proposals  for  an  offen- 
sive made  to  the  Conference  at  Petrograd  were  intended 
to  deceive  the  Western  Allies,  and  to  gain  time  for  the 
final  liquidation  of  Rumania.  Already  the  Russian  Gov- 
ernment controlled  Rumania's  supplies  of  ammunition,^ 
and,  by  an  adroit  interpretation  of  Articles  VIII  and 
IX  ^  of  the  Military  Convention,  the  Rumanian  Army 
had,  for  all  practical  purposes,  been  brought  under  the 
Russian  High  Command.  The  next  step  was  to  assume 
control  of  the  Rumanian  civil  administration.  On  the 
pretext  that  the  confusion  and  congestion  on  the  Moldav- 
ian railway  system  would  preclude  offensive  operations, 
the  Russian  General  Staff  suggested  a  wholesale  evacua- 
tion of  Rumanian  elements  from  Moldavia  into  Russian 
territory.  This  evacuation  was  to  include  the  Govern- 
ment, the  civil  population,  and  all  military  units  not 
actually  on  the  front.     Apart  from  its  total  impractica- 

1  About  60  per  cent,  of  the  supplies  of  ammunition  sent  by  the  West- 
ern Powers  to  Rumania  were  lost  or  stolen  In   transit   through   Russia. 

2  These  Articles  prescribed  the  position  of  the  King  of  Rumania  as 
Commander-in-Chief  of  all  forces  in  Rumanian  territory.  After  the 
retreat  Into  Moldavia,  advantage  was  taken  of  the  somewhat  inexplicit 
character  of  these  Articles  and  the  preponderance  of  Russian  troops  to 
place  King  Ferdinand  under  the  orders  of  the  Czar. 


132  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

bility  with  the  communications  available,  the  object  of 
this  suggestion  was  sufficiently  clear — it  was  the  con- 
version of  Moldavia  into  a  Russian  colony.  When  that 
had  been  accomplished,  a  separate  peace  could  be  con- 
cluded between  Russia  and  the  Central  Empires,  and 
the  prophec}^  of  Baron  von  der  Busche  ^  would  have 
been  amply  verified. 

During  the  proceedings  of  the  Conference  there  had 
been  much  talk  of  revolution,  but  few  of  the  Allied  rep- 
resentatives believed  in  it.  Society  in  Petrograd  scoffed 
at  the  idea  of  a  political  upheaval,  it  was  held  to  be  im- 
possible while  the  lower  classes  were  so  prosperous  and 
comparatively  well  fed.  At  the  end  of  February  the 
Conference  broke  up,  the  British,  French  and  Italian 
delegates  left  by  the  Murmansk  route,  convinced  that,  at 
last,  the  Russian  "steam  roller"  was  going  to  advance. 

A  few  daj^s  later  the  Revolution  began.  The  soldiers 
joined  the  people.  Their  motives  for  so  doing  were  nat- 
ural and  logical,  they  should  have  been  a  lesson  to  those 
who  were  next  to  try  to  rule  in  Russia,  if  vanity  and 
false  ideas  had  not  conspired  to  make  Kerensky  the  pup- 
pet of  occidental  plans.  Many  senior  generals  supported 
the  Revolution.  Their  motives  were  variously  ascribed 
to  patriotism  and  ambition — when  generals  and  soldiers 
act  alike  a  distinction  must  be  drawn. 

Western  democracies  gave  an  enthusiastic  reception 
to  the  new  order  in  Russia — so  much  so  that  our  Am- 
bassador in  Petrograd,  of  all  men  the  most  innocent 
and  above  suspicion,  was  accused  of  complicity  in  the 
revolutionary  plot.  Liberals  spoke  of  the  awakening  of 
Russia,  and  they  were  absolutely  right.  It  was,  indeed, 
an  awakening  of  oppressed,  exploited  people,  and  was 

1  The   former  German  Minister  to  Bucharest. 


RUSSIAN  REVOLUTION  133 

thorough,  abrupt  and  rude.  Officials  in  Paris  and  Lon- 
don were  not  without  misgivings,  but  they  perceived 
some  advantages  in  the  situation — a  central  soviet  at 
Petrograd,  or  even  a  Republic,  ruled  by  idealists,  would 
be  a  more  docile  instrument  than  the  Government  of  the 
Czar.  Superficially,  they  w^ere  right.  This  shortsighted 
view  was  justified  by  events  during  the  first  four  months 
of  confusion  and  excitement.  Fundamentally,  they 
wrong.  They  had  misjudged  the  Revolution,  and  had 
not  recognized  that  lassitude  and  exasperation  pervaded 
the  Russian  armies,  and  that  men  in  this  frame  of  mind 
were  better  left  alone. 

The  fate  of  Rumania  had  trembled  in  the  balance 
when  left  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the  men  who  ruled  in 
Russia  under  the  old  regime.  The  Revolution  had 
brought  a  chance  of  respite,  and  admitted  a  ray  of  hope. 
Great  Britain  and  France  could  have  helped  the  Ru- 
manian people  by  using  their  influence  to  insist  on  strict 
adherence  to  the  terms  of  the  Military  Convention.  If 
this  had  been  done,  and  if  patience  and  foresight  had 
been  exercised,  the  natural  desire  of  the  Army  and  the 
Government,  to  take  an  active  part  in  the  reconquest 
of  their  territory,  might  have  been  gratified  on  sane 
strategic  lines.  The  Rumanian  Army  might  have  been 
reorganized  and  re-equipped,  and  then  could  have  played 
a  useful  part  in  a  concerted  Allied  plan. 

This  was  not  to  be.  The  Allied  plan  was  fixed  and 
immutable.  Though  everything  had  changed  in  Russia, 
this  plan  was  the  direct  outcome  of  Gourko's  fantasies: 
it  consisted  in  a  gigantic  offensive  operation,  without 
adequate  communications  and  with  ill-equipped  armies, 
on  more  than  one  hundred  miles  of  front.  The  Ru- 
manian forces  were  to  be  wedged  between  two  Russian 


134  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

armies  and  thus  deprived  of  the  power  of  independent 
movement,  while  their  role  was  limited  to  that  of  an  in- 
significant fraction  of  an  incoherent  mass.  Ignorance 
and  optimism  ruled  the  Allied  Councils;  they  were  to 
be  as  fatal  to  Rumanian  interests  as  Russian  guile  and 
greed. 

I  returned  to  Jassy  from  Petrograd  towards  the  mid- 
dle of  March.  The  Russian  forces  in  Moldavia  had 
caught  the  revolutionary  infection ;  their  Commander- 
in-Chief,  a  Russian  prince,  had  found  prudence  to  be 
the  better  part  of  valour  and  assisted  at  committee  meet- 
ings wearing  a  red  cockade.  Revolution  softens  the  man- 
ners and  customs  of  even  the  most  violent  natures. 
Officers,  who  a  few  months  before  had  kicked  their  sol- 
diers in  the  streets  for  not  saluting,  now,  when  they  got 
a  rare  salute,  returned  it  with  gratitude. 

The  Rumanian  peasants  remained  faithful  to  their 
King  and  Government.  They  had  suffered  much,  but 
their  pride  of  race  and  native  sense  prevented  them 
from  flattering  the  hated  intruders  bj^  imitating  Rus- 
sian methods  for  the  redress  of  wrongs.  In  Jassy,  some 
Socialists  who  had  been  arrested  were  liberated  by  their 
friends:  these  may  have  included  some  Rumanians,  but 
their  number  was  not  considerable  and  their  activities 
were  not  a  source  of  danger  to  the  commonwealth,  which 
was  threatened  only  from  outside. 

On  the  front  an  extraordinary  situation  had  arisen. 
Fraternization  between  the  opposing  armies  was  general 
and  unrestrained,  except  on  the  Rumanian  sector.  The 
Russian  soldiers  were  in  regular  correspondence  with 
their  Austrian  and  German  adversaries,  by  means  of 
post-boxes  placed  between  the  lines  and  verbal  inter- 
course.   Men,  whose  respective  Governments  were  still 


RUSSIAN  REVOLUTION  135 

at  war,  fished  in  the  waters  of  the  Sereth,  ''Angling  is 
somewhat  like  poetry,  men  are  to  be  born  so."  No 
doubt  these  anglers  thought,  with  Isaac  Walton,  that 
they  were  brothers  of  the  angle.  Barbed  wire  was  put 
to  peaceful  uses,  entanglements  were  used  as  drying 
lines  and  were  covered  with  fluttering  shirts.  The  revo- 
lution had  accomplished  something;  it  had  given  some 
very  dirty  soldiers  the  time  to  wash  their  clothes. 

A  unique  opportunity  for  propaganda  had  presented 
itself.  The  Germans  utilized  it  to  circulate  letters  in- 
viting the  Russian  and  Rumanian  soldiers  to  desert  their 
"real  enemies" — France  and  England.  These  appeals 
had  no  effect.  The  Russians  received  them  philosoph- 
ically ;  they  had,  already,  got  a  sort  of  peace  and,  in  the 
front-line  trenches,  a  sufficiency  of  food.  The  Ruman- 
ians had  other  reasons  for  rejecting  such  advice.  Peace 
with  invaders  had  no  meaning  for  them,  their  only 
friends  were  France  and  England.  The  peasants  real- 
ized instinctively  that  Russia  was  a  foe. 

In  their  impatience  for  offensive  action,  the  Allies 
failed  to  grasp  some  essential  features  of  the  situation, 
which  might  have  been  turned  to  good  account.  The 
Russian  armies  were  in  a  state  of  convalescence  after 
the  first  fever  of  the  revolution,  the  majority  of  the  men 
were  inert,  if  not  contented,  and  no  longer  indulged  in 
deeds  of  violence ;  they  were  still  influenced  by  the  revo- 
lutionary spirit,  but  not  in  a  rabid  sense.  They  were  a 
source  of  contagion  to  the  enemy  but,  relatively,  harm- 
less to  themselves.  Fraternalization  on  the  Rumanian 
front  was  more  hurtful  to  the  Central  Empires  than  to 
the  Allies.  The  Austro-Hungarians  were  war-weary  and 
demoralized;  inactivity  had  encouraged  hopes  of  peace 
and,  after  close  on  three  years  of  war,  such  hopes  die 


136  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

hard.  Even  the  Germans  were  disaffected,  their  iron 
discipline  had  grown  more  lax.  During  one  of  my  visits 
to  the  Russian  trenches,  a  German  private  brought  a 
message  from  his  comrades,  advising  the  "Soldiers'  Com- 
mittee" to  cease  passing  convoys  along  a  certain  road, 
because  "our  pigs  of  officers  may  make  us  shoot." 

Disintegrating  forces  were  at  work  among  the  enemy 
troops ;  they  were  the  product  of  social  and  political  con- 
ditions and,  whatever  might  be  their  later  repercussion, 
from  an  immediate  and  practical  point  of  view,  they  were 
more  powerful  aids  to  victory  for  the  Allies  than  any 
offensive  on  this  front.  A  premature  Russo-Rumanian 
offensive,  with  unwilling  Russian  soldiers,  could  have 
but  one  effect — its  futility  was  evident  to  the  humblest 
combatants  in  the  opposing  ranks;  it  could  only  serve 
to  rally  doubters  and,  thereby,  postpone  another  revo- 
lution. That  revolution  was  inevitable:  it  might  have 
been  precipitated  by  an  intelligent  adaptation  of  Allied 
policy  to  facts. 

So  far  as  could  be  seen,  the  Allies  had  no  policy  at 
this  period.  Statesmen  no  longer  ruled.  The  German 
system  had  been  followed  by  making  the  General  Staffs 
omnipotent.  To  men  obsessed  by  one  single  facet  of  a 
many-sided  problem,  the  Russian  Revolution  was  an  in- 
cident without  significance  beyond  its  bearing  on  the 
Western  Front;  for  them  the  Russian  armies  were  ma- 
chines, whose  functions  had  undergone  no  change  as  the 
result  of  revolution.  They  regarded  an  offensive  on  the 
Eastern  Front  as  a  subsidiary  operation,  which  would 
relieve  the  pressure  in  the  West :  that  was  the  aim  and 
object  of  their  strategy,  and  everything  was  subordinated 
to  the  achievement  of  that  end. 

With  very  few  exceptions,  the  Russian  Generals  who 


RUSSIAN  REVOLUTION  137 

had  retained  commands,  after  the  abdication  of  the 
Czar,  favoured  the  Allied  plan ;  it  appealed  not  only  to 
their  personal  ambition  but  also  to  a  conviction,  which 
they  shared  with  many  others,  that  further  slaughter 
would  allay  political  unrest.  The  most  influential  mem- 
ber of  the  new  Russian  Government  was  Kerensky,  an 
idealist  whose  support  for  any  enterprise  could  be  se- 
cured by  flattering  his  vanity,  which,  as  with  many 
democratic  leaders,  had  assumed  the  proportions  of  dis- 
ease. The  motives  of  this  man  were  comparatively  dis- 
interested, but  he  was  young  and  inexperienced.  He 
became  the  most  ardent  advocate  of  the  offensive  plan 
and  turned  himself  into  a  recruiting  sergeant  instead  of 
directing  the  affairs  of  State.  Brains  and  calm  judg- 
ment are  seldom  used  in  war.  It  is  much  easier  to  enrol 
thousands  of  simple  men  to  serve  in  what  the  Russians 
called  ''Battalions  of  Death"  than  it  is  to  find  one  man 
possessed  of  sense.  Kerensky  raised  many  such  battal- 
ions and,  to  do  him  justice,  he  did  not  deceive  the  vic- 
tims of  his  eloquence  more  completely  than  himself. 

In  Rumania  hope  alternated  with  despair  in  regard  to 
future  operations;  the  former  was  spasmodic  and  in- 
spired by  the  French  Military  Mission,  the  latter  was 
bound  to  invade  any  reflective  mind.  Certain  Rumanian 
Generals  were  frankly  optimistic  in  regard  to  the  recon- 
quest  of  Wallachia,  others  professed  to  be  so  to  gain 
the  approval  of  the  French.  With  either  of  these  two 
types  discussion  was  impossible ;  it  would  have  been  cruel 
to  rob  them  of  any  source  of  consolation  by  insisting  on 
the  truth. 

General  Ragosa,  who  commanded  the  2nd  Russian 
Army,  expressed  himself  emphatically  against  a  renewal 
of  offensive  tactics  by  Russian  troops,  before  they  had 


138  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

been  equipped  on  the  same  scale  as  other  armies.  He 
declared  that  Brusiloff's  much  advertised  offensives  had 
been  conducted  without  due  preparation  or  regard  for 
loss  of  life,  and  that  though  that  general  had  gained 
much  personal  glory,  he  had  broken  the  spirit  of  his 
men.  The  attitude  of  the  rank  and  file  more  than  con- 
firmed this  view ;  the  revolutionary  soldiers  lacked  neither 
patriotism  nor  courage,  but  they  had  come  to  suspect  and 
hate  the  blundering,  ruthless  generals  who  held  their 
lives  so  cheap.  They  knew  that  on  the  Western  Front 
slaughter  was  mitigated  by  mechanical  devices,  whereas 
they  were  regarded  as  mere  cannon  fodder  and  of  less 
value  than  their  transport  mules.  When  French  and 
British  officers  urged  them  to  make  further  sacrifices, 
they  put  a  searching  question:  ''Do  your  soldiers  pull 
down  barbed  wire  entanglements  with  their  bare  hands  ? ' ' 
Such  questions  were  disconcerting  to  fervent  foreign 
propagandists,  and  did  not  stimulate  their  curiosity  to 
hear  other  unpleasant  truths.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that 
"Soldiers'  Committees"  had  been  established  in  almost 
every  unit,  and  were  largely,  though  not  completely, 
representative,  these  spokesmen  of  a  mass  of  inarticulate 
opinion  were  neglected  by  the  partisans  of  immediate 
offensive  action,  who  seemed  to  have  forgotten  that  the 
Russian  Revolution  had  ever  taken  place. 

Once  again,  the  Western  Powers  were  asking  the 
armies  on  the  Eastern  Front  to  do  what  their  own  armies 
would  not  have  been  allowed  to  do.  Their  motives  were 
selfish  and  their  propaganda  false:  when  ignorance  is 
wilful  it  becomes  immoral,  when  combined  with  medioc- 
rity of  mind,  it  fails  to  recognize  the  natural  limitations 
of  a  situation  and  has  a  boomerang  effect.  Wise  men, 
however  immoral  they  may  be,  know  where  to  stop ;  the 


RUSSIAN  REVOLUTION  139 

stupid,  when  unrestrained  by  fear  or  scruples,  push 
blindly  on  and  never  seek  enlightenment,  they  cause 
more  suffering  by  their  folly  than  the  most  cruel  tyrants 
by  their  vice. 

At  the  beginning  of  July  the  offensive  began;  by 
some  it  was  called  the  * '  French ' '  offensive,  and  the  name 
was  not  inapt.  It  came  as  a  surprise  to  the  enemy  Army 
Commanders,  who  had  not  expected  this  solution  of  a 
problem  whose  political  aspects  were  causing  them  grave 
concern.  The  Austro-Hungarian  and  German  soldiers 
could  still  be  counted  on  to  retaliate  if  attacked;  this 
sudden  onslaught  put  an  end  to  the  fraternalization  be- 
tween the  armies  and  could  be  dealt  with  easily  by  even 
an  inferior  number  of  well-led  and  well-organized 
troops. 

The  history  of  these  ill-fated  operations  is  too  well 
known  to  need  recapitulation.  By  the  end  of  July  the 
Russo-Rumanian  offensive  had  collapsed  completely. 
The  Russian  forces  were  everywhere  in  retreat,  the  Ru- 
manians, after  making  a  twelve-mile  advance  and  fight- 
ing with  great  gallantry  and  determination,  were  forced 
to  withdraw  to  the  line  from  which  they  had  started, 
owing  to  the  retirement  of  the  Russian  armies  on  both 
their  flanks. 

A  total  misconception  of  the  internal  situation  in 
Russia  had  brought  about  a  military  disaster  of  un- 
precedented magnitude.  The  Russian  armies  had  ceased 
to  exist  as  fighting  forces,  the  soldiers  had  flung  away 
their  arms  and  offered  no  opposition  to  invasion,  all 
Western  Russia  was  at  the  mercy  of  the  Germans,  who 
had  only  to  advance. 

With  the  disappearance  of  all  military  cohesion,  the 
political   situation   in   Russia   became   desperate.     The 


140  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

dumb  driven  herd  had,  in  the  end,  stampeded  and  put 
the  herdsmen  in  a  fearful  quandary,  from  which  there 
was  no  escape.  Millions  of  men  had  demobilized  them- 
selves and  roved  about  the  country  or  poured  into  the 
towns;  they  had  been  brutalized  by  three  years  of  war 
and  showed  it  by  their  deeds.  Six  months  before  the 
Russian  people  had  lost  confidence  in  themselves.  With 
a  new  form  of  Government  new  hope  had  come,  but  now 
that  hope  was  dashed.  Russian  Democracy  had  been 
tried  and  failed.  Kerensky  and  his  fellows  had  de- 
stroyed an  evil  system,  but  had  put  nothing  but  rhetoric 
in  its  place.  They  had  convinced  themselves  that  they 
were  Russia's  saviours,  and  had  not  realized  that  revolu- 
tions which  are  caused  by  war  have  but  one  object — a 
return  to  peace.  They  might  have  saved  the  situation 
by  a  temporizing  policy;  far  greater  men  have  not  dis- 
dained inaction  based  on  calculation,  and  Russia's  his- 
tory had  shown  that  in  her  wide  and  distant  spaces  lay 
her  most  sure  defence.  Instead,  the  leaders  of  the  Revo- 
lution, having  no  Russian  policy,  had  embarked  on  an 
enterprise  which  every  thinking  Russian  knew  was  fore- 
doomed to  failure ;  thereby  they  had  destroyed  the  trust 
of  the  people  in  their  Western  Allies,  who  had  become 
objects  of  resentment,  for  having  urged  the  last  offen- 
sive without  regard  for  ways  and  means. 

To  distracted  soldiers,  workmen  and  peasants  in  all 
parts  of  Russia,  the  Bolshevist  doctrine  made  a  strong 
appeal ;  it  promised  not  only  peace,  but  a  form  of  self- 
government,  and  these  leaderless,  misgoverned  men 
snatched  eagerly  at  the  prospect.  Lenine  and  Trotsky 
liad  long  perceived  the  real  need  of  the  Russian  people, 
their  international  theories  effaced  any  sentiment  of  loy- 
alty to  the  Allies,  and,  after  sweeping  away  the  last 


RUSSIAN  REVOLUTION  141 

v^estiges  of  Kerensky's  Government,  they  asked  Germany 
for  an  armistice. 

In  Southern  Moldavia,  the  Rumanians  still  held  their 
ground,  covering  the  crossings  of  the  Sereth.  They 
were  completely  isolated — on  one  side  anarchy,  on  the 
other  a  ring  of  steel.  The  situation  of  this  dismembered 
country  was  tragic  and  appalling;  in  the  words  of  the 
Prophet  Isaiah,  Rumania  was  ''as  the  small  dust  of  the 
balance."  Her  fate  was  linked  with  that  of  Russia,  she 
was  small  dust  indeed,  compared  to  that  ponderous  mass. 

The  impatience  of  the  Western  Powers  had  exposed 
Rumania  to  the  machinations  of  a  haughty,  overbearing 
ally  and  an  enemy  in  disguise.  From  these  the  Revolu- 
tion had  delivered  her,  but  only  in  the  hour  of  defeat 
and  on  the  eve  of  irretrievable  disaster.  She  was  to 
drain  the  cup  of  bitterness  down  to  its  very  dregs,  and, 
at  the  bidding  of  the  Bolshevists,  to  conclude  a  separate 
peace. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  Bolshevists  betrayed  Ru- 
mania. This  accusation  is  unfounded  and  unjust.  The 
Bolshevists  were  the  outcome  of  a  pernicious  system, 
for  which  the  Revolution  had  found  no  remedy; 
Rumania  had  undoubtedly  been  betrayed,  but  the  be- 
trayal was  not  Lenine's  work.  AA^hen  he  assumed  con- 
trol in  Russia,  Rumania's  plight  was  hopeless,  and,  at 
least,  he  left  her  what  she  might  have  lost — the  status  of 
an  Independent  State. 

The  Alliance  had  lost  a  limb  which  spread  across  two 
Continents  and  bestrode  the  Eastern  world.  Its  strength 
had  been  exaggerated,  but  it  had  rendered  priceless 
services  at  the  outset  of  the  war.  At  last  it  had  broken 
down  from  overwork,  directed  by  men  who  had  neither 
understood  its  functions  nor  realized  that  it  was  some- 


142  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

thing  human,  though  different  from  the  rest.  The  Rus- 
sian people  had  not  changed  with  a  change  of  Govern- 
ment, but  the  same  men  were  abused  as  traitors  under 
Lenine,  who  had  been  praised  as  patriots  and  heroes 
when  subjects  of  the  Czar. 

The  amputation  had  been  self-inflicted,  and  the  limb 
was  left  to  rot. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
A  MroNiGHT  Mass 

On  Easter  Eve,  it  is  the  practice  of  the  Orthodox 
Greek  Church  to  hold  a  Special  Vigil,  which  terminates 
at  midnight  on  Holy  Saturday.  In  the  year  1917  this 
vigil  had  unusual  significance  for  the  Rumanian  people, 
who  were  passing  through  a  time  of  tribulation,  the 
words  ''Kyrie  Eleison"^  were  in  every  heart,  and  even 
the  irreligious  sought  the  solace  of  Mother  Church. 

I  had  been  with  the  Armies,  and  had  returned  to 
Jassy  late  on  Easter  Saturday.  My  way  had  lain 
through  almost  deserted  country,  with  here  and  there  a 
sparsely  populated  village,  whose  tolling  church  bells 
called  the  peasants  to  their  prayers. 

The  Moldavian  capital  was  densely  crowded.  Since 
early  in  the  evening,  a  great  concourse  had  been  assem- 
bling in  the  Cathedral  Square.  At  the  time  of  my  ar- 
rival, thousands  of  patient  waiting  people  stood  there, 
a  sea  of  faces  blanched  in  the  moonlight,  pinched  by 
want  and  cold.  Many  Russian  soldiers  were  .sharing  in 
this  outer  vigil.  Just  before  midnight,  after  the  King 
and  Queen  had  entered  the  Cathedral,  some  of  them 
broke  through  the  cordon  of  Rumanian  troops  and  tried 
to  force  an  entrance.  They  also  wished  to  worship  in 
accordance  with  the  ritual  of  their  church,  but  were  held 

1  "Kyrie  Eleison,"  the  Greek  for  "Lord  have  mercy  on  us,"  described 
by  Cardinal  Wiseman  as  "that  cry  for  mercy  which  is  to  be  found  in 
every  liturgy  of  East  and  West." 

143 


144  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

back  and  roughly  handled.  There  was  not  room  for  all 
who  wished  to  enter  in,  and  these  were  soldiers  of  the 
Revolution  wearing  the  red  cockade.  One  of  them,  quite 
a  boy  in  years,  fell  prostrate  and  inarticulate  on  the 
steps,  and  was  permitted  to  remain. 

The  vigil  ended  shortly  after  midnight,  and  at  its 
close  the  Archbishop  led  a  procession  to  the  precincts, 
where  massed  bands  played,  rockets  soared  high  in 
Heaven,  and  true  believers  kissed  each  other,  saying: 
"Christ  is  risen." 

Once  more  we  entered  the  Cathedral,  and  what  I  have 
called  a  Midnight  Mass  or  Liturgy  was  celebrated.  The 
term  may  well  be  a  misnomer.  There  may  not  have 
been  a  mystical  destruction,  but  there  were  prayers  of 
penitence  and  praise,  of  supplication  and  thanksgiving, 
and  these  we  are  taught  are  the  four  ends  of  the  sacrifice 
of  the  Mass. 

Jassy  Cathedral  is  not  one  of  those  vast  Gothic  struc- 
tures, whose  symmetry  and  gorgeous  decoration  serve  as 
memorials  of  the  inspired  human  efforts  which  graced  a 
more  religious  age.  It  is  a  plain  unostentatious  building 
of  no  great  size.  This  night,  however,  it  appeared  trans- 
formed; height,  length  and  breadth  assumed  immense, 
mysterious  proportions — the  chancel  blazed  with  light, 
all  other  parts  of  the  interior  of  the  building  were 
wrapped  in  obscurity,  side  chapels  loomed  like  cavern- 
ous recesses,  the  nave  was  filled  with  flickering  shadows, 
its  vault  resembled  a  dark  firmament  above  a  tense  ex- 
pectant multitude,  a  seemingly  innumerable  host,  stretch- 
ing far  back  in  serried  lines  and  ever  deepening  gloom. 

Rumanian  soldiers  predominated  in  the  congregation, 
the  radiance  from  the  altar  was  reflected  on  swart,  fierce 
faces,  and  shone  in  countless  eyes.     Queen  Mary,  sur- 


A  MIDNIGHT  MASS  145 

rounded  by  her  ladies,  stood  near  the  centre  of  the 
transept,  a  group  of  white-clad  figures  gleaming  softly 
against  the  grey  background.  The  King  and  his  second 
son  occupied  two  thrones  on  the  south  side  of  the  chancel, 
facing  them  were  the  representatives  of  seven  Allied 
States. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  service  the  music  was 
subdued,  treble  and  alto  voices  recited  canticles  and 
chanted  antiphons.  Sometimes  a  clear  soprano  rang  out 
alone.  I  could  not  understand  the  words,  but  one  of  the 
melodies  recalled  an  air  by  Handel,  a  touching  declara- 
tion of  faith  triumphant,  a  woman's  voice  proclaiming 
that  her  Redeemer  lives.  Later,  the  character  of  the 
music  changed.  From  a  gallery  at  the  Cathedral's  west- 
ern end,  a  choir  of  men  thundered  out  pgeans  of  rejoicing, 
which  rose  in  shattering  crescendos,  and  surged  up  to 
the  altar  in  waves  of  sonorous  sound. 

The  climax  of  the  ceremony  was  reached  when  the 
Archbishop  left  the  altar  steps  and  knelt  before  the 
King.  The  old  Primate 's  work  was  done.  This  learned 
monk  and  priest  of  God  was  a  Rumanian  citizen.  As 
such,  he  surrendered  to  his  temporal  sovereign  the  sym- 
bol of  all  Christendom,  and  his  own  most  sacred  charge. 
King  Ferdinand  received  it  reverently,  and  a  Catholic 
Hohenzollern  Prince  stood  as  the  Head  of  Church  and 
State  holding  a  jewelled  cross. 

An  unexpected  movement  followed.  Most  of  the  for- 
eign diplomats  and  soldiers  pressed  round  the  Royal 
throne,  and  paid  homage  to  both  spiritual  and  temporal 
power  by  kissing  first  the  crucifix  and  then  the  j\Ion- 
arch's  hand. 

This  gesture  was  neither  premeditated  nor  prompted 
by  a  spirit  of  Erastianism.     It  was  the  act  of  men  under 


146  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

the  influence  of  deep  emotion.  Something  had  touched 
their  hearts;  something,  perhaps,  which  brought  back 
memories  of  boyhood,  when  belief  was  ready,  and  young 
imaginations  glowed,  and  youth  was  vowed  to  noble 
needs ;  something  which  stirred  feelings  numbed  by  con- 
tact with  worldliness  and  cruelty  on  life's  rough  way; 
something  still  fragrant  and  redolent  of  innocence, 
which  they  had  lost  long  since  and  found  awhile. 

To  the  peasant  soldiers,  the  music,  the  incense  and 
the  vestments  combined  to  make  a  beatific  vision,  a 
light  to  those  who  walked  in  darkness,  and  whose  simple 
faith  was  strong  and  real.  They  believed  implicitly  in 
the  second  advent  of  a  man  who  had  been,  and  would 
be  again — ^Wonderful,  a  Counsellor,  a  Good  Shepherd, 
and  a  Prince  of  Peace.  They  had  known  sorrow  and 
defeat,  the  enemy  was  in  their  land,  famine  and  pes- 
tilence were  ravaging  their  homes,  but  they  were  sol- 
diers of  the  Cross  and  undismayed.  More  battles  would 
be  fought,  battles  without  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of 
those  in  theatres  less  remote.  The  last  heroic  stand  at 
Marasesti  ^  would  be  made  by  humble  men,  who,  this 
night  throughout  Moldavia,  were  met  together  for  a  fes- 
tival of  their  Church,  not  to  sing  songs  of  lamentation, 
but  to  cry  Hallelujah  and  Hosanna,  to  tell  the  joyful 
tidings — "Christ  is  risen." 

1  Marasesti  is  a  village  in  the  Sereth  Valley,  where  six  Rumanian 
divisions  repelled  repeated  assaults  by  numerically  superior  German  and 
Austro-Hungarian  forces  under  Field -Marshal  Mackensen.  The  Ru- 
manians fought  unsupported  and  caused  100,000  casualties  in  the  enemy 
ranks.  They  held  their  positions  until  the  signature  of  peace  at  Buchar- 
est. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

''"Westerners"  and  "Easterners" 

For  many  years  before  the  ' '  Great  World  War, ' '  the 
German  Army  had  been  the  most  formidable  fighting 
machine  in  existence.  It  had  filled  professional  soldiers 
in  all  countries  with  envy  and  admiration,  as  the  su- 
preme expression  of  a  warlike  and  disciplined  race. 

When  the  war  began  the  Allied  Armies  were  unpre- 
pared, and  were  unable  to  withstand  an  offensive  which 
was  a  triumph  of  scientific  organization  and  almost 
achieved  complete  success.  The  partial  success  of  this 
first  German  offensive  had  two  important  results :  it 
carried  the  war  on  the  Western  Front  into  French  and 
Belgian  territory,  and  more  than  confirmed  the  worst 
fears  of  Allied  military  experts  as  to  the  efficiency  of  the 
German  Army. 

After  the  Battle  of  the  Marne,  a  mood  of  extravagant 
optimism  prevailed.  One  British  general  prophesied  in 
September,  1914,  that  by  the  end  of  March,  1915,  the 
Russians  would  be  on  the  Oder  and  the  French  and 
British  on  the  Rhine.  With  the  advent  of  trench  war- 
fare on  the  Western  Front  and  the  retreat  of  the  Rus- 
sians in  East  Prussia  and  P'oland,  the  outlook  became 
less  rosy,  and  the  Allies  settled  down  to  a  form  of  war 
which  was  to  last,  with  slight  variations,  until  the  armis- 
tice. 

Generally  speaking,  this  form  of  war  involved  the 
subordination  of  Policy  to  Grand  Tactics.     Policy  had 

147 


148  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

for  its  object  the  protection  of  vital  interests,  more 
especially  in  the  East,  and  aimed  at  securing  the  co-oper- 
ation of  neutral  States  with  a  view  to  strengthening  the 
Alliance.  Grand  Tactics  demanded  the  sacrifice  of  every 
consideration  to  ensuring  victory  on  the  Western  Front. 
The  failure  of  the  expedition  to  the  Dardanelles  put 
statesmen,  for  a  time  at  least,  at  the  mercy  of  profes- 
sional soldiers,  of  whom  the  vast  majority,  both  French 
and  British,  were  so-called  "Westerners." 

The  ideas  of  these  men  were  simple.  If  pursued  to 
their  logical  conclusion  they  would  have  required  the 
concentration  of  all  Allied  forces  (including  Serbs  and 
Russians)  somewhere  in  France  and  Flanders.  The 
more  rabid  Westerners  did  desire  this,  as  they  honestly 
believed  that  on  their  front  there  was  no  middle  course 
between  a  decisive  victory  and  a  crushing  defeat.  Others 
admitted  a  Russian,  and  later  an  Italian  Front  with  its 
appendage  at  Salonika,  but,  in  their  eyes,  the  only  ob- 
ject of  these  two  fronts  was  to  hold  as  many  enemy 
troops  as  possible  and  facilitate  a  victory  in  the  West. 
That  victory  was  to  be  preceded  by  a  war  of  attrition, 
which  would  culminate  in  a  final  battle  on  classic  lines 
— the  infantry  and  artillery  would  make  a  gap  through 
which  massed  cavalry  would  pour. 

The  French  Staff  was  characteristically  optimistic, 
the  British  less  so.  Many  senior  British  officers  had  a 
profound  respect  for  the  German  Military  System,  it 
was  to  them  the  embodiment  of  excellence  from  every 
point  of  view,  and  had  to  be  imitated  before  it  could  be 
beaten. 

In  the  autumn  of  1915,  the  era  of  Allied  counter- 
offensives  began.  The  slaughter  on  both  sides  was  im- 
mense, but  no  appreciable  results  were  achieved.    While 


"WESTERNERS"  AND  "EASTERNERS"   149 

these  operations  were  being  carried  out,  Bulgaria  joined 
the  Central  Empires,  the  greater  part  of  Servia  and  Al- 
bania was  over-run,  and,  according  to  an  official  report 
on  the  operations  against  the  Dardanelles,  "the  flow  of 
munitions  and  drafts  fell  away." 

Throughout  the  whole  of  1916,  the  war  of  attrition 
was  waged  in  deadly  earnest  and  exacted  a  ghastly  toll. 
By  the  end  of  the  year  no  decision  had  been  reached  on 
the  three  main  fronts,  but  the  richest  part  of  Rumania 
had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

Public  opinion  in  both  France  and  Great  Britain 
seemed  to  approve  the  methods  of  the  Westerners.  The 
French  naturally  desired  above  everything  to  drive  the 
invaders  out  of  France,  and  the  British  people  had  be- 
come resigned  to  a  war  of  workshops,  which  was  lucra- 
tive to  those  who  stayed  at  home. 

From  a  purely  military  point  of  view,  the  attitude  of 
the  Westerners  was  comprehensible.  The  Western  Front 
was  close  to  the  Allied  bases  of  supply,  it  had  good  com- 
munications, the  climate  was  healthy,  on  this  front  the 
Germans  were  encountered,  and  they  formed  the  back- 
bone of  the  hostile  combination.  Undoubtedly  a  victory 
in  the  West  was  the  ideal  way  to  win  the  war.  No  one 
disputed  that,  but  at  the  end  of  1916  that  victory  was 
still  remote.  Germany's  position  on  the  Western  Front 
was  very  strong,  her  army  was  homogeneous,  her  com- 
munications were  superior  to  ours,  and  her  recent  con- 
quests in  the  East  had  mitigated  the  effects  of  two  years 
of  blockade. 

Since  September,  1914,  both  sets  of  belligerents  had 
made  offensives,  but  these  had  failed,  though  in  each 
ease  an  initial  success  had  raised  the  highest  hopes. 
Stupendous  preparations  had  been  made,  artillery  had 


150  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

been  employed  on  an  unpreceaented  scale,  lives  had 
been  sacrificed  ruthlessly,  but,  invariably,  the  forward 
movement  had  been  arrested,  had  ebbed  a  little  and  im- 
mobility had  ensued.  Some  law  appeared  to  operate  in 
this  most  modern  form  of  warfare.  Killing  without 
mancEuvre  had  become  an  exact  science,  but  battles  are 
not  merely  battues,  the  armies  must  advance,  and  this 
they  could  not  do — their  mass  and  the  enormous  assem- 
blage of  destructive  appliances,  necessary  for  the  pre- 
liminary process  of  annihilation,  produced  a  congestion 
which  brought  the  best  organized  offensive  to  a  stand- 
still. In  such  circumstances  it  seemed  that  final 
victory  might  be  postponed  for  months  and  even 
years. 

In  1917.  The  Central  Empires  held  the  land 
routes  of  South-Eastern  Europe  and  Turkey  was  their 
vassal  State,  whereas  the  Allies  disposed  of  precarious 
sea  communications,  which  linked  them  with  no  more 
than  the  periphery  of  the  Ottoman  Empire  and  the 
Balkans  at  three  widely  separated  points.  In  these 
regions  the  populations  were  being  Germanized,  inev- 
itably and  in  spite  of  themselves.  The  Germans  were 
on  the  spot,  they  might  be  arrogant  and  unsympathetic, 
but  they  were  efficient,  and  suffering,  unsophisticated 
people  could  justifiably  argue  that  these  intruders  were 
better  as  friends  than  enemies,  and  that  it  paid  to  be  on 
their  side.  To  neglect  this  situation,  until  we  had  won 
a  victory  in  the  West,  exposed  the  Allies  to  the  risk  of 
letting  German  influence  become  predominant  through- 
out the  Middle  East.  For  the  British  Empire  such  a 
state  of  affairs  would  have  spelled  disaster;  after  untold 
sacrifices  in  the  Allied  cause.  Great  Britain  would  have 
lost  the  war. 


''WESTERNERS"  AND  "EASTERNERS"       151 

These  weighty  considerations  had  influenced  certain 
British  statesmen  ever  since  the  intervention  of  Turkey 
on  the  side  of  the  Central  Empires,  but  their  plans  had 
been  frustrated  by  official  inertia  and  mismanagement. 
At  last,  a  serious  effort  was  made  to  restore  our  pres- 
tige in  the  East  by  operations  in  the  direction  of  Pales- 
tine and  in  Mesopotamia.  These  operations  were  against 
the  same  enemy  and  were  carried  out  almost  exclusively 
by  British  forces,  but  were  independent  of  each  other 
and  not  part  of  a  concerted  plan.  The  British  War 
Office  had  undertaken  the  supply  and  maintenance  of 
three  ''side-shows"  (including  Salonika),  but  had 
neither  the  time  nor  the  inclination  to  prepare  a  scheme 
for  the  co-ordination  of  operations  in  the  Eastern  thea- 
tres. Perhaps  it  was  feared  that  such  a  scheme  would 
involve  the  dispatch  of  reinforcements. 

The  Eastern  situation  demanded,  in  the  first  place, 
statesmanship.  A  military  policy  was  needed  which, 
while  recognizing  the  preponderating  importance  of 
securing  the  Western  Front,  would  aim  at  bringing  pres- 
sure to  bear  on  every  part  of  the  enemy  combination; 
which  would  not  be  content  with  local  successes,  but 
would  attack  Pan-Germanism,  the  real  menace  to  the 
British  Empire,  where  its  activities  were  centred ;  which 
would  strike  at  Germany  through  her  Near  Eastern 
allies,  complete  the  circle  of  blockade  on  land  and  re- 
trieve the  sources  of  supply  which  had  been  taken  from 
Rumania. 

Military  operations  alone  would  not  suffice;  the  co- 
operation of  the  navy  was  essential  to  reduce  the  risks 
from  submarines  which  infested  the  Eastern  Mediter- 
ranean. The  shipping  problem  presented  many  diffi- 
culties.    These  could  be  overcome  only  by  Governmental 


152  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

action  based  on  policy.  If  dealt  with,  by  subordinate 
ofiScials,  the  distribution  of  available  tonnage  would  fol- 
low the  line  of  least  resistance  in  the  form  of  short  trips 
to  France. 

If  the  broad  lines  of  an  Eastern  policy  had  been  laid 
down  and  insisted  on  by  the  Allied  Governments,  a 
plan  could  have  been  put  into  execution  which,  while 
offensive  operations  were  in  progress  in  Mesopotamia, 
Palestine  and  Macedonia,  would  have  directed  against 
the  heart  of  the  Ottoman  Empire  a  strategic  reserve, 
concentrated  with  that  objective  in  view  at  one  or  more 
of  the  Eastern  Mediterranean  ports.  The  force  required 
would  not  have  been  considerable.  The  Turkish  and 
Bulgarian  armies  were  held  on  three  widely  separated 
fronts,  leaving  weak  and  scattered  garrisons  in  Thrace 
for  the  protection  of  the  Dardanelles. 

The  difficulties  were  many,  but  the  stakes  were  big. 
The  fall  of  Constantinople  would  have  revolutionized 
the  Near  Eastern  situation.  It  would  have  forced  Tur- 
key to  make  a  separate  peace,  and  would,  thereby,  have 
freed  a  large  proportion  of  our  forces  in  Palestine  and 
Macedonia  for  employment  in  other  theatres.  It  would 
have  had  an  immediate  effect  in  Bulgaria,  where  the  re- 
sentment against  Germany,  on  account  of  the  partition- 
ing of  the  Dobrudja,  was  bitter  and  widespread.  It 
would  have  opened  up  communications  by  sea  with  the 
Rumanian  and  Russian  armies  in  Moldavia,  and  made  it 
possible  to  maintain  and  quicken  the  Southern  Russian 
front.  An  opportunity  would  have  presented  itself  for 
settling  the  Macedonian  question  on  its  merits,  the  West- 
em  Powers  would  have  been  the  arbiters,  and  their 
decisions  would  have  been  respected  as  those  of  all- 
powerful  allies  or  potential  conquerors.     A  just  settle- 


''WESTERNERS"  AND  "EASTERNERS"       153 

ment  of  this  question  could  not  have  failed  to  secure  a 
separate  peace  with  Bulgaria. 

Any  Balkan  settlement,  which  fulfilled  our  treaty  and 
moral  obligations  to  Rumania  and  Servia  respectively, 
involved  the  partial  dismemberment  of  Austria-Hun- 
gary. An  invasion  of  the  Eastern  and  South- AVestem 
provinces  of  the  Dual  Monarchy  was  the  natural  corol- 
lary of  an  Eastern  military  policy.  This  invasion  could 
have  been  effected  by  national  armies  advancing  towards 
their  ethnological  frontiers.  The  Rumanians,  after  the 
reconquest  of  Wallachia,  could  have  operated  in  Transyl- 
vania and  along  the  Danube  Valley  towards  the  Banat. 
The  Serbs  in  Bosnia  and  Herzegovina  towards  the  Dal- 
matian Coast.  In  all  these  provinces  the  popula- 
tions were  awaiting  with  impatience  the  arrival  of  the 
Allies  to  throw  off  the  hated  yoke  of  Austria-Hun- 
gary. 

Operations  of  this  nature  would  have  had  a 
repercussion  in  Croatia  and  Bohemia,  where  the  inhab- 
itants were  disaffected  and  ready  to  revolt.  Their  atti- 
tude would  have  facilitated  an  extension  of  the  invasion 
in  the  direction  of  Trieste.  The  occupation  of  Trieste 
would  have  completed  the  encirclement  of  German  Aus- 
tria and  Germany.  The  German  Western  front  would 
have  been  turned  strategically,  policy  and  strategy,  work- 
ing in  harmony,  could  have  undertaken  the  task  of  iso- 
lating Prussia,  the  centre  of  militarism  and  the  birth- 
place of  Pan-Germanism.  Munich  and  Dresden  are 
closer  to  Trieste  than  to  any  point  in  France  or  Flanders. 

Such,  in  brief  outline,  was  an  Eastern  military  policy 
which  had  been  submitted  repeatedly  since  the  early 
stages  of  the  war.  It  was  first  proposed  as  a  comple- 
ment to  the  operations  on  the  Western  and  Eastern 


154  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

fronts.  With  the  intervention  of  Italy,  the  possibiUty 
of  its  extension  towards  Croatia  and  Istria  was  per- 
ceived. At  the  beginning  of  1917  it  did  not  involve  the 
detachment  of  many  additional  divisions  from  other 
theatres.  The  aggregate  casualties  in  one  of  the  big 
offensives  would  have  more  than  met  requirements.  This 
detachment  could  have  been  justified  on  strategical 
grounds,  since  it  would  have  forced  the  enemy  to  con- 
form to  at  least  an  equal  extent.  It  was  an  attempt  to 
harmonize  stategy  with  policy,  and  on  the  principle  of 
solvitur  amhulando  to  deal,  during  the  progress  of  the 
war,  with  a  mass  of  vexed  racial  problems  which,  during 
an  armistice  or  in  time  of  peace,  are  surrounded  by 
intrigue. 

The  advocates  of  an  Eastern  policy  were  described 
as  "Easterners,"  a  term  which  was  susceptible  of  vari- 
ous interpretations.  It  meant,  at  best,  a  visionary,  at 
worst,  a  traitor,  according  to  the  degree  of  indignation 
aroused  in  "Westerners." 

Notwithstanding  the  failure  of  their  previous  efforts, 
the  "Westerners"  still  claimed  in  1917  that  a  decisive 
victory  could  and  would  be  won  on  the  Western  front, 
if  the  Russo-Rumanian  offensive  came  up  to  expecta- 
tions. They  had  organized  the  British  nation  for  a  spe- 
cial form  of  war.  Thanks  to  a  highly  developed  Intel- 
ligence Department,  they  knew  exactly  what  they  had  to 
deal  with.  Hundreds  of  able-bodied  officers  had  worked 
with  all  the  ardour  of  stamp  collectors  at  identifying 
enemy  units,  and  had  produced  catalogues  which  in  the 
judgment  of  archivists  were  impeccable,  though  at  the 
time  of  issue  they  may  have  been  out  of  date.  The 
French  Armies  were  commanded  by  the  hero  of  Verdun,^ 
and  were  full  of  the  offensive  spirit.     The  Italians  were 

1  General  Nivelles. 


"WESTERNERS"  AND  "EASTERNERS"       155 

holding  their  own  on  the  Carso  and  the  Isonzo.  The 
framework  of  the  war  was  set,  the  far-flung  buckler  of 
the  Central  Empires  would  be  pierced,  where  they  were 
strongest,  the  Germans  would  be  beaten  by  their  own 
methods,  and  at  any  cost. 

Once  more  the  "Westerners"  had  their  way.  Once 
more  their  hopes  were  disappointed.  At  the  end  of 
1917,  in  spite  of  local  tactical  successes,  the  Western 
front  remained  unbroken,  the  Italians  had  retreated  to 
the  line  of  the  Piave,  and  the  Eastern  front  had  dis- 
solved in  the  throes  of  revolution.  In  Palestine  and 
Mesopotamia,  the  Allies  had  struck  two  heavy  blows  at 
Turkey-,  and  the  Ottoman  Empire  was  drifting  into 
chaos.  A  direct  blow  at  Constantinople  would  have  en- 
countered slight  opposition,  it  would  have  been  wel- 
comed by  the  masses  of  the  people  as  a  deliverance.  In 
Macedonia  the  Bulgars  were  showing  signs  of  disaffec- 
tion, but  here  inaction,  both  military  and  diplomatic, 
continued  the  stalemate.  The  alliance  of  America  had 
saved  the  financial  situation,  but  no  effective  military 
support  could  be  expected  from  this  quarter  for  many 
months  to  come. 

Fortunately  for  the  British  Empire  and  for  civiliza- 
tion, German  policy  was  also  controlled  by  "Western- 
ers." These  men  were  essentially  experts,  past  masters 
of  technique,  but  indifferent  exponents  of  the  military 
art  when  applied  to  a  world-wide  war.  They  had  failed 
to  seize  their  opportunity  in  1914,  when  Paris  and  the 
Channel  Ports  were  at  their  mercy.  During  1915  and 
1916,  they  had  squandered  lives  and  ammunition  in 
costly  offensives  on  the  Western  front,  w'hen  they  might 
have  taken  Petrograd.  In  1917,  they  lacked  the  insight 
to  perceive  that  their  conquests  on  the  Eastern  front 


156  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

more  than  compensated  the  check  to  overweening  aspira- 
tions in  the  West,  which,  owing  to  their  past  mistakes, 
could  not  be  gratified.  If  at  the  end  of  1917  the  Ger- 
man Government  had  offered  terms  of  peace,  based  on 
the  evacuation  of  France  and  Belgium  and  including 
the  cession  of  Alsace  and  Lorraine,  and  had  during  the 
winter  months  withdrawn  their  troops  to  the  right  bank 
of  the  Meuse,  the  Allied  Governments  could  hardly  have 
refused. 

In  France  the  drain  on  man-power  had  been  appalling, 
A  continuance  of  hostilities  involving  further  losses 
would  have  aroused  opposition  in  influential  circles,  and 
would  have  been  denounced  as  illogical  and  quixotic,  as 
a  sacrifice  of  French  interests  on  the  altar  of  Great 
Britain,  when  peace  could  be  had  on  advantageous 
terms.  The  position  of  the  other  Allies  would  have  been 
difficult  in  the  extreme.  To  continue  the  war  in  the 
West,  without  France  as  a  base,  would  have  been  im- 
possible. The  only  alternative  would  have  been  an  in- 
tensification of  the  blockade  and  the  operations  in  the 
Eastern  theatres.  These  operations  would  no  longer 
have  been  confined  to  Turks  and  Bulgars,  and  new  bases 
would  have  been  required  to  mount  them  on  a  proper 
scale;  further,  the  non-existence  of  a  comprehensive 
Eastern  policy  would  have  been  a  cause  of  much  delay. 
America  had  not  declared  war  against  either  Turkey  or 
Bulgaria.  The  Italians  had  interests  in  the  East ;  but, 
under  these  altered  circumstances,  their  position  on  the 
Piave  front  would  have  been  critical,  and  might  have 
forced  them  to  make  peace.  The  Allied  peoples  were 
war  weary,  peace  talk  would  have  aroused  their  hopes, 
and  have  been  more  convincing  than  the  arguments  of 
Imperialists. 


''WESTERNERS"  AND  ''EASTERNERS"       157 

By  proposing  peace,  the  German  Government  might 
have  lost  prestige,  but  would  have  gained  something 
more  substantial — a  secure  position  in  the  East,  In- 
stead, at  the  beginning  of  1918,  everything  was  sacri- 
ficed to  a  renewal  of  offensives  on  the  "Western  front. 
■  The  reinforcements  asked  for  by  Bulgaria  were  not  sent, 
and  Turkey  was  abandoned  to  her  fate.  Ominous  mut- 
terings  from  the  working  classes  in  Germany  were  disre- 
garded. By  a  rigorous  application  of  the  military  system 
and  by  promises  of  victory,  a  clique  of  ambitious  gen- 
erals kept  the  German  people  well  in  hand. 

If  a  frontal  attack  against  a  sector  of  an  immense  en- 
trenched position  could  lead  to  decisive  results,  the 
German  offensive  of  March,  1918,  should  have  had  the 
desired  effect.  It  penetrated  to  within  ten  miles  of 
Amiens,  a  vital  point  on  the  Allied  communications,  and 
there,  in  spite  of  the  most  prodigious  efforts,  it  petered 
out.  The  ratio  between  the  front  of  attack  and  the  depth 
of  advance  had  exceeded  all  previous  records,  but  just 
as  success  seemed  certain,  human  endurance  reached  its 
limits,  and  proved  once  more  its  subjugation  to  an  in- 
human and  automatic  law.  The  British  front  had  not 
been  broken,  though  it  had  been  badly  bent. 

Undeterred  by  this  dreadful  and  unavailing  slaughter, 
the  German  leaders  persisted  in  their  efforts,  and  staked 
the  destiny  of  their  country  on  one  last  gambler's  throw. 
Four  offensives  had  been  repulsed,  a  fifth  was  now  at- 
tempted with  Paris  as  its  goal.  It  was  dictated  by  po- 
litical, and  possibly  dynastic,  considerations,  and  was  not 
executed  with  customary  German  skill. 

To  close  observers,  it  had  for  some  time  been  apparent 
that  German  strategy  was  weakening.  There  had  been 
less  coherence  in  the  operations,  and  symptoms  of  in- 


158  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

decision  on  the  part  of  the  High  Command.  Field- 
Marshal  Foch  was  undoubtedly  a  better  strategist  than 
any  of  his  adversaries,  and  the  war  of  movement,  re- 
sulting from  the  German  offensives,  gave  him  an  oppor- 
tunity which  he  was  not  slow  to  seize.  A  series  of  ham- 
mer blows  along  the  whole  "Western  front  deprived  Lud- 
endorff  of  the  initiative  which  he  had  hitherto  possessed, 
and  forced  the  German  armies  to  evacuate  the  salients  in 
the  direction  of  Paris  and  Amiens. 

Other  and  more  fundamental  factors,  however,  had 
already  undermined  Germany's  powers  of  resistance. 
The  discontent  among  the  masses  of  the  German  popu- 
lation had  assumed  menacing  proportions ;  it  affected  the 
troops  on  the  lines  of  communication  directly,  and 
through  them  the  soldiers  on  the  front.  During  the  last 
offensives  the  number  of  men  who  surrendered  voluntar- 
ily had  been  above  the  average,  and  when  the  retirement 
began,  when  all  hopes  of  taking  Paris  in  1918  had  disap- 
peared, when  American  soldiers  had  been  encountered, 
proving  the  failure  of  the  submarine  campaign, 
the  spirit  of  the  German  Armies  changed.  Certain  units 
still  fought  well,  but  the  majority  of  the  German  soldiers 
became  untrustworthy,  though  not  yet  mutinous.  An 
eye-witness  relates  that  on  their  arrival  at  Chateau- 
Thierry,  the  German  officers  were  in  the  highest  spirits, 
and  the  words  "Nach  Paris"  ^  w^ere  continually  on  their 
lips.  The  men,  on  the  other  hand,  seemed  depressed  and 
mood}^  but  when  the  order  was  issued  for  withdrawal, 
their  demeanour  brightened,  they  found  a  slogan  full 
of  portents,  the  words  were  "Nach  Berlin"  -  and  were 
uttered  with  a  smile.  This  incident  is  authentic,  it  took 
place  in  July. 

1  To    Paris.     2  To   Berlin. 


"WESTERNERS"  AND  "EASTERNERS"   159 

History  was  repeating  itself,  misgovernment  by  a  sel- 
fish upper  class  had  produced  in  Germany  the  same  con- 
ditions which  had  driven  the  Russian  people  into  revo- 
lution. In  both  countries  a  state  of  war  had  accentuated 
pre-existent  evils,  by  giving  a  freer  rein  to  those  who 
exploit  patriotism,  courage  and  devotion  for  their  per- 
sonal ends.  Germany  had  outlasted  Russia  because,  in 
her  military  system,  she  had  an  almost  perfect  organiza- 
tion from  an  administrative  point  of  view.  This  system, 
by  concentrating  all  the  resources  of  the  nation  on  a 
single  purpose  and  putting  them  at  the  disposal  of  a 
few  resolute,  all-powerful  men,  had  enabled  the  Ger- 
man people  to  make  incredible  efforts.  Had  it  been  con- 
trolled by  statesmen,  total  disruption  might  have  been 
averted ;  directed  by  infatuated  and  homicidal  militarists, 
its  very  excellence  enabled  it  to  hold  the  Empire  in  its 
grip  until  disaster  was  complete. 

From  June,  1918,  onwards,  all  hope  of  a  German  vic- 
tory on  the  Western  Front  had  disappeared.  Germany 
was  seething  with  discontent,  her  industrial  life  was 
paralised,  the  supply  of  munitions  had  seriously  de- 
creased ;  yet  Ludeudorff  persevered,  he  drove  the  armies 
with  remorseless  energy,  a  kind  of  madness  possessed 
him  and  his  acolytes,  imposing  desperate  courses  and 
blinding  them  to  facts.  Their  whole  political  existence 
was  at  stake,  failure  meant  loss  of  place  and  power,  of  all 
that  made  life  sweet,  so  they  conceived  a  sinister  design 
— if  they  failed  "all  else  should  go  to  ruin  and  become  a 
prey." 

When  the  crash  came,  it  came  from  within.  For 
months,  the  German  armies  on  the  front  had  been  a 
facade  screening  a  welter  of  misery  and  starvation.  The 
machine  had  functioned  soullessly,  causing  the  useless 


160  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

massacre  of  thousands  of  soldiers,  while  women  and  chil- 
dren died  by  tens  of  thousands  in  the  midst  of  fictitious 
opulence.  During  these  last  days,  the  rank  and  file 
fought  without  hope,  for  an  Emperor  who  was  to  save 
himself  by  flight,  for  leaders  who  treated  them  like 
pawns,  for  the  defence  of  hearths  and  homes  where  fam- 
ine and  disease  were  rife.  Long  years  of  discipline  had 
made  these  men  automatons,  they  were  parts  of  a  great 
projectile  whose  momentum  was  not  yet  exhausted,  and 
they  had  long  ceased  to  reason  why. 

Unreasoning  docility  is  held  by  some  to  be  a  civic 
virtue :  that  was  the  German  doctrine  and  the  basis  of 
their  Military  System,  which,  though  at  its  inception 
a  defensive  system,  became  an  instrument  of  conquest, 
pride  and  insolence,  a  menace  to  the  world.  The  form 
of  war  which  Germany  initiated  and  perfected  has  de- 
graded war  itself,  it  has  organized  slaughter  with  me- 
chanical devices,  has  made  tanks  of  more  account  than 
brains,  and  has  crowned  the  triumph  of  matter  over 
mind.  There  was  a  redeeming  glamour  about  war  as 
made  by  Alexander  and  Napoleon,  today  it  is  a  hideous 
butchery,  which  can  be  directed  by  comparatively  medi- 
ocre men.  It  has  ceased  to  be  an  art  and  has  become 
an  occupation  inextricably  interwoven  with  a  nation's 
industrial  life. 

The  downfall  of  the  German  Military  System  is  a 
stern  reminder  of  the  vicissitude  of  things,  and  has  re- 
moved a  brooding  shadow  which  darkened  civilization. 
If  calamitous  experience  serves  as  a  guide  to  statesmen 
in  the  future,  its  rehabilitation  will  be  prevented — in 
any  form,  however  specious,  in  any  land. 


CHAPTER  XV 

The  Peace  Conference  at  Paris — 1919 

"Until  philosophers  are  kings,  or  the  kings  and  princes  of  this 
world  have  the  power  and  spirit  of  philosophy,  and  political  great- 
ness and  wisdom  meet  in  one,  and  those  commoner  natures  which 
pursue  either  at  the  expense  of  the  other  are  compelled  to  stand 
aside — cities  will  never  rest  from  their  evils,  no — nor  the  human 
race,  as  I  believe." — Plato. 

Four  days  before  the  official  declaration  of  war  on 
Germany  by  the  Government  of  the  United  States,  Presi- 
dent Wilson  made  a  speech  before  the  American  Con- 
gress which  contained  the  following  passage :  ^  "  We 
shall  fight  .  .  .  for  Democracy  .  .  .  for  the  rights  and 
liberties  of  small  nations,  for  a  universal  dominion  of 
right  by  such  a  concert  of  free  peoples  as  shall  bring 
peace  and  safety  to  all  nations  and  make  the  world  itself 
at  last  free."  A  few  months  later  the  same  spokesman 
of  a  free  people  declared:-  "They  (men  everywhere) 
insist  .  .  .  that  no  nation  or  people  shall  be  robbed  or 
punished  because  the  irresponsible  rulers  of  a  single 
country  have  themselves  done  deep  and  abominable 
wrong.  .  .  .  The  wrongs  .  ,  .  committed  in  this  war 
.  .  .  cannot  and  must  not  be  righted  by  the  commission 
of  similar  wrongs  against  Germany  and  her  allies." 
Later  still,  when  the  victory  of  Democracy  had  become 
certain,  a  forecast  of  the  terms  of  peace  was  given  by  the 
same  authoritative  voice :  ^  "In  four  years  of  conflict 
the  whole  world  has  been  drawn  in,  and  the  common  will 

1  Speech  of  April  2nd,  1917. 

2  Message  of  December  4th,  1917. 

s  Declaration    of    September   27th,    1918. 

161 


162  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

of  mankind  has  been  substituted  for  the  particular  pur- 
poses of  individual  States.  The  issues  must  now  be  set- 
tled by  no  compromise  or  adjustment,  but  definitely  and 
once  for  all.  There  must  be  a  full  acceptance  of  the 
principle  that  the  interest  of  the  weakest  is  as  sacred 
as  the  interest  of  the  strongest.  That  is  what  we  mean 
when  we  speak  of  a  permanent  peace." 

These  and  a  number  of  similar  utterances  had  pro- 
duced a  deep  effect  throughout  the  world.  The  ruling 
classes  in  Europe  professed  to  regard  them  as  merely 
propaganda,  and  not  to  be  taken  seriously,  but  they 
could  not  escape  the  uneasy  consciousness  that  their  own 
methods  in  the  past  were  being  arraigned  before  an  un- 
pleasantly public  court  of  justice.  Moderate  opinion  in 
all  countries  was  disposed  to  welcome  these  bold  state- 
ments of  democratic  principles  as  furnishing  a  conven- 
ient bridge  to  a  more  advanced  stage  in  political  evolu- 
tion, views  which  would  have  been  condemned  as  senti- 
mental, and  even  anarchic,  in  a  humbler  social  reformer, 
on  the  lips  of  a  President  were  considered  as  a  states- 
man's recognition  of  the  logic  of  hard  facts.  The  masses 
thought  they  were  the  ' '  plain  people, ' '  for  whom  and  to 
whom  the  President  had  spoken,  and  in  their  hearts  had 
risen  a  great  hope. 

"Wlien  Mr.  Wilson  first  arrived  in  Europe  huge  crowds 
acclaimed  him,  and,  making  due  allowance  for  the  cyni- 
cal, the  curious  and  indifferent,  these  crowds  contained 
a  far  from  insignificant  proportion  of  ardent,  enthusias- 
tic spirits,  who  welcomed  him  not  as  a  President  or  a 
politician,  but  as  the  bearer  of  a  message,  not  as  a  Rabbi 
with  a  doctrine  made  up  of  teachings  in  the  synagogues, 
but  as  a  latter-day  Messiah  come  to  drive  forth  the 
money-changers  and  intriguers  from  the  temple  of  a 


1919— PEACE  CONFERENCE  AT  PARIS         163 

righteous  peace.  Eager  idealists  believed  that  the  vic- 
tory of  democracy  had  set  a  period  to  the  evils  resulting 
from  autocratic  forms  of  government,  that  with  the  ter- 
mination of  the  war  the  topmost  block  had  been  placed 
on  a  pyramid  of  errors,  that  a  real  master-builder  had 
appeared,  who  would  lay  the  foundations  of  a  cleaner, 
better  world.  They  saw  in  him  the  champion  of  de- 
cency and  morality,  a  doughty  champion,  strong  in  the 
backing  of  millions  of  free  people,  who  had  seen  liberty 
in  danger,  and  had  sent  their  men  across  an  ocean  to 
fight  for  freedom  in  an  older  world  in  torment.  They 
were  grateful  and  offered  him  their  services,  loyally  and 
unreservedly,  asking  but  one  thing — to  be  shown  the 
way.  History  contains  no  parallel  to  this  movement. 
Savanarola  and  Rienzi  had  appealed  to  local,  or  at  most 
national  feeling.  Here  was  a  man  who  stood  for  some- 
thing universal  and  inspiring,  who  was  more  than  a 
heroic  priest,  more  than  the  Tribune  of  a  people,  a  man 
who,  while  enjoying  personal  security,  could  speak  and 
act  for  the  welfare  of  all  peoples  in  the  name  of  right. 
For  such  causes,  men  in  the  past  have  suffered  persecu- 
tion and  have  been  faithful  unto  death. 

No  Peace  Conference  has  ever  undertaken  a  more 
stupendous  task  than  that  which  confronted  the  delegates 
of  the  Allied  States  in  Paris  in  January,  1919.  Central 
Europe  was  seething  with  revolution  and  slowly  dying 
of  starvation.  Beyond  lay  Russia,  unknown  yet  full  of 
portents,  more  terrible  to  many  timorous  souls  than  ever 
Germany  had  been.  The  war  had  come  to  a  sudden  and 
unexpected  end,  and  enemy  territory  had  not  been  in- 
vaded save  at  extremities  which  were  not  vital  points. 
The  Central  Empires  and  their  Allies  had  collapsed 
from  internal  causes.     Germany  and  Austria  could  not, 


164  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

for  the  moment,  oppose  invasion,  wliieh  had  lost  all  its 
terrors  for  distracted  populations,  who  hoped  that  French 
and  British  soldiers  would,  by  their  presence,  maintain 
law  and  order  and  ensure  supplies  of  food.  On  the 
other  hand,  neither  the  Serbs  nor  the  Rumanians  had 
had  their  territorial  aspirations  satisfied  during  the  prog- 
ress of  the  war.  Both  races  had  followed  the  usual  Bal- 
kan custom  by  invading  the  territories  they  claimed 
during  the  armistice;  this  method,  when  employed 
against  Hungarians,  involved  the  use  of  force;  it  also 
embittered  relations  between  themselves  where,  as  in  the 
Banat,  their  claims  clashed  and  overlapped.  Further 
north,  the  Czecho-Slovaks  had  proclaimed  their  inde- 
pendence, and  Poland  was  being  resurrected;  the  fron- 
tiers of  both  these  States  were  vague  and  undefined,  but 
their  appetites  were  unlimited,  and  Teschen,  with  its 
coalfields,  was  a  pocket  in  dispute. 

Not  only  had  the  Peace  Conference  to  endeavour  to 
prevent  excessive  and  premature  encroachment  on  enemy 
territory  by  Allied  States,  it  had  also  to  compose  serious 
differences  between  the  Western  Powers  in  regard  to  the 
Adriatic  coast,  Syria,  and  Asia  Minor  arising  out  of 
secret  treaties. 

These  considerations,  though  emoarrassing  for  the  rep- 
resentatives of  Great  Britain,  France  and  Italy,  did  not 
affect  President  Wilson  to  the  same  exLeni ;  in  fact  they 
rather  strengthened  his  position  and  confirmed  the  ex- 
pectation that  he  would  be  the  real  arbiter  of  the  Con- 
ference. His  speeches  had,  in  the  opinion  of  innumer- 
able men  and  women,  indicated  the  only  solution  of  the 
world-problem.  The  ''Fourteen  Points"  had  outlined, 
without  inconvenient  precision,  a  settlement  of  interna- 
tional questions;  he  was  the  head  of  a  State  untram- 


1919— PEACE  CONFERENCE  AT  PARIS  165 

melled  by  secret  treaties,  the  only  State  not  on  the  verge 
of  bankruptcy,  a  State  which  could  furnish  both  moral 
and  material  aid.  When  M.  Albert  Thomas  said  that 
the  choice  lay  between  Wilson  and  Lenine,  he  may  have 
been  guilty  of  exaggeration,  but  he  expressed  a  feeling 
which  was  general  and  real.  Whether  that  fesling  was 
justified,  the  future  alone  will  show. 

In  the  Declaration  of  September  27,  1918,  President 
Wilson  stated:  "All  who  sit  at  the  Peace  table  must 
be  ready  to  pay  the  price,  and  the  price  is  impartial 
justice,  no  matter  whose  interest  is  crossed."  Later  on 
in  the  same  Declaration  he  added :  ' '  the  indispensable  in- 
strumentality is  a  'League  of  Nations.'  but  it  cannot  be 
formed  now. ' '  Five  conditions  of  peace  were  set  forth ; 
of  these,  the  third  laid  down  that  there  could  be  no 
alliances  or  covenants  within  the  League  of  Nations,  and 
the  Declaration  concluded  with  an  appeal  to  the  Allies: 
"I  hope  that  the  leaders  of  the  Allied  Governments  will 
speak  as  plainly  as  I  have  tried  to  speak,  and  say  whether 
my  statement  of  the  issues  is  in  any  degree  mistaken." 

The  inference,  drawn  by  the  ordinary  man  after  pe- 
rusing this  Declaration,  was  that  its  author  expected  the 
Conference  to  deal  with  each  and  every  question  on  its 
merits,  that  the  ''League  of  Nations"  would  eventually 
be  the  instrument  employed  in  reaching  the  final  settle- 
ment, and  that,  following  on  the  establishment  of  the 
League,  all  previous  alliances  would  cease  to  exist  and 
future  alliances  would  be  precluded.  The  questioning 
form  of  the  concluding  sentence  suggested  doubts  as  to 
the  attitude  of  the  Associated  Powers,  but  the  presence 
of  the  President  at  the  peace  table  served  as  presumptive 
evidence  that  those  doubts  had  been  set  at  rest. 

A  "League  of  Nations"  was,  undoubtedly,  the  ideal 


166  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

instrument  for  achieving  a  just  settlement  of  the  many 
and  varied  questions  which  confronted  the  Peace  Con- 
ference, but  a  "League,"  or  "Society  of  Nations"  as 
defined  by  Lord  Robert  Cecil,^  could  not  be  created  be- 
fore the  conclusion  of  a  Preliminary  Peace  with  Ger- 
many and  her  Allies,  with,  as  its  corollary,  the  inclusion 
of,  at  least,  Germany,  Austria,  and  Hungary  within  the 
League.  In  the  words  of  Lord  Robert  Cecil,  such  a  So- 
ciety would  be  incomplete,  and  proportionately  ineffec- 
tive, unless  every  civilized  State  joined  it. 

The  formation  of  a  full-fledged  League  required  time. 
Further,  in  the  frame  of  mind  which  prevailed  in  all  the 
Allied  and  Associated  States,  a  real  "Society  of  Na- 
tions," implying  "friendly  association"  with  the  enemy 
peoples,  as  distinguished  from  their  late  "irresponsible 
Governments,"  was  impossible.  An  alternative  did, 
however,  exist — an  alternative  for  which  a  precedent 
could  be  found  and  which  needed  moral  leadership  rather 
than  cumbrous  machinery  for  its  application.  This  al- 
ternative would  have  consisted  of  three  processes:  the 
conclusion  of  a  Preliminary  Peace  with  Germany  and 
her  Allies,  combined  with  suspension  of  blockade;  the 
admission  to  the  Peace  Conference  of  delegates  represent- 
ing the  different  parts  of  the  German  Empire,  Austria, 
Hungary,  Bulgaria,  and  Turkey ;  collaboration  with  these 
delegates  in  the  settlement  of  territorial  readjustments 
in  accordance  with  the  principles  enunciated  in  President 
Wilson's  speeches  and  the  "Fourteen  Points."  The 
Congress  of  Vienna  had  set  the  precedent  by  admitting 
to  its  councils  Talleyrand,  the  representative  of  a  con- 

1  In  a  speech  at  Birmingham  University  on  December  12,  1918,  Lord 
Robert  Cecil  said :  "Our  new  'Society  of  Nations'  must  not  be  a  group, 
however  large  and  important.  It  is  absolutely  essential  that  the  'League 
of  Nations'  should  be  open  to  every  nation  which  can  be  trusted  by  Its 
fellows  to  accept  'ex  animo,'  the  principles  and  basis  of  such  a  Society." 


1919— PEACE  CONFERENCE  AT  PARIS        167 

quered  State  which  had  changed  its  form  of  govern- 
ment in  the  hour  of  defeat.  The  conclusion  of  a  ''Pre- 
liminary Peace"  presented  no  difficulty.  Germany  had 
reached  the  lowest  pitch  of  weakness;  her  military  and 
naval  forces  had  ceased  to  exist,  her  population  was  de- 
pendent on  the  Allies  for  supplies  of  food,  she  was  torn 
by  internal  dissensions,  and  the  Socialist  and  Democratic 
parties  had  gained  the  upper  hand.  Bavaria  was  show- 
ing separatist  tendencies,  and  her  example  might  be  fol- 
lowed by  other  German  States.  The  same  conditions 
prevailed  in  the  other  enemy  countries  to  an  even  more 
marked  degree.  In  short,  the  Allies  could  have  counted 
on  acceptance  of  any  preliminary  peace  terms  which 
they  might  have  chosen  to  impose.  They  could  have 
ensured  their  fulfilment,  not  only  by  the  maintenance  of 
military  forces  on  provisional  and  temporary  frontiers, 
but  also  by  the  threat  of  a  reimposition  of  an  effective 
blockade.  In  an  atmosphere  free  from  the  blighting  in- 
fluences of  an  armistice,  dispassionate  treatment  of  a 
mass  of  ethnical  questions  would  have  been  possible.  An 
appeal  could  have  been  made  to  the  common  sense  and 
interests  of  the  enemy  peoples,  through  their  statesmen 
and  publicists,  which  would  have  disarmed  reaction,  and 
which  would  have  made  it  possible  to  utilize  the  more 
enlightened  elements  in  the  key-States  of  Central  Europe 
for  the  attainment  of  a  durable  peace.  A  Peace  Confer- 
ence so  composed  would  have  been  the  embryo  of  a  true 
"Society  of  Nations,"  a  fitting  instrument  for  the  prac- 
tical application  of  theories  not  new  nor  ill-considered, 
whose  development  had  been  retarded  in  peaceful,  pros- 
perous times,  and  which  now  were  imperatively  de- 
manded by  multitudes  of  suffering  people  weighed  down 
by  sorrow  and  distress. 


168  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

Mr.  Wilson  does  not  seem  to  have  considered  any  alter- 
native to  the  immediate  formulation  of  a  covenant  of  the 
"League  of  Nations."  He  left  the  all-important  ques- 
tion of  peace  in  abeyance,  and  devoted  his  energies  to 
the  preparation  of  a  document  which  would  serve  as  an 
outward  and  visible  sign  of  personal  success.  Perhaps 
he  was  dismayed  by  the  opposition,  in  reactionary  Allied 
circles,  to  moral  theories  considered  by  officials  to  be 
impracticable  and  even  dangerous,  however  useful  they 
might  once  have  been  for  purposes  of  propaganda.  He 
may  have  been  paralysed  amid  unaccustomed  surround- 
ings where  he  was  not  the  supreme  authority.  At  any 
rate,  he  neglected  to  use  a  weapon  whose  potency  he,  of 
all  rulers,  should  have  known — the  weapon  of  publicity, 
which  was,  as  ever,  at  his  service  and  would  have  rallied 
to  the  causes  he  espoused  the  support  and  approval  of 
sincere  reformers  in  every  class.  He  worked  in  secret 
and  secured  adhesion  to  a  draft  of  the  covenant  of  the 
"League  of  Nations/'  whose  colourless  and  non-commit- 
tal character  betrayed  official  handiwork. 

The  man  who  had  arrived  in  Paris  as  the  bearer  of  a 
message  whose  echoes  had  filled  the  world  with  hope, 
left  France  the  bearer  of  a  "scrap  of  paper."  He  re- 
turned to  find  his  authority  lessened.  Before,  he  had 
stood  alone ;  he  came  back  to  take  his  place  as  one  of 
the  "Big  Four."  It  is  given  to  few  men  to  act  as  well 
as  to  affirm. 

Mr.  Lloyd  George  was  unable  to  help  the  President; 
his  election  speeches  had  been  the  reverse  of  a  moral 
exposition  of  the  issues,  and  the  Parliamentary  majority 
they  had  helped  to  create  allowed  no  lapses  into  Liberal- 
ism. More  than  a  year  had  passed  since  the  Prime  Min- 
ister of  Great  Britain  had  stated  that  the  British  people 


1919— PEACE  CONFERENCE  AT  PARIS        169 

were  not  fighting  "a  war  of  aggression  against  the  Ger- 
man people  ...  or  to  destroy  Austria-Hungary,  or  to 
deprive  Turkey  of  its  capital  or  of  the  rich  and  re- 
nowned lands  of  Asia  Minor  and  Thrace  which  are  pre- 
dominantly Turkish  in  race."  Teschen  had  not  been 
heard  of  then,  and  the  demands  of  Italy  and  M.  Veni- 
zelos  were  either  forgotten  or  ignored.  Mr.  Lloyd 
George's  native  sense  and  insight  would  have  avoided 
many  pitfalls;  the  BuUit  revelations  did  no  more  than 
bare  justice  to  his  acumen  in  regard  to  Russia,  but  he 
was  terrorized  by  a  section  of  the  British  Press,  which 
held  him  relentlessly  to  vote-catching  pledges,  however 
reckless  or  extravagant. 

The  Prime  Minister  of  the  French  Republic  was  pre- 
occupied with  revenging  past  humiliations,  with  retriev- 
ing the  fortunes  of  his  country  and  making  it  secure. 
He  did  lip-service  to  the  "League  of  Nations,"  but 
talked  of  it  with  sardonic  humour,  and  did  it  infinite 
harm.  A  dominating  personality  and  a  prodigious  in- 
tellect enriched  by  wide  experience  were  lost  to  the 
cause  of  human  progress.  No  rare  occurrence,  when  the 
possessors  of  these  gifts  are  old. 

With  the  progress  of  the  Conference,  M.  Clemenceau's 
influence  became  stronger.  He  had  made  fewer  public 
speeches  than  his  colleagues,  and  perhaps  that  simplified 
his  task.  "Certain  it  is  that  words,  as  a  Tartar's  bow, 
do  shoot  back  upon  the  understanding  of  the  wisest,  and 
mightily  entangle  and  pervert  the  judgment." 

While  precious  months  were  being  devoted  to  fram- 
ing the  draft  covenant  of  the  League  of  Nations,  Com- 
missions appointed  by  the  Peace  Conference  had  been 
busy  preparing  reports  on  multifarious  points  of  detail. 
These  reports  were  the  work  of  experts,  and  could  not 


170  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

fail  to  influence  the  final  decisions  of  the  Supreme  Coun- 
cil; as  a  matter  of  fact,  they  were  followed  textually  in 
some  of  the  weightiest  decisions  reached.  The  men  who 
prepared  them  were  in  no  sense  statesmen,  they  were 
trammelled  by  official  routine  and  exposed  to  all  man- 
ner of  outside  influences.  The  whole  tone  of  life  in  Paris 
was  inimical  to  an  objective  attitude.  Clamours  for 
vengeance  distorted  the  natural  desire  of  honest  men 
in  France  and  Belgium  for  security  against  future  ag- 
gression by  a  resuscitated  Germany.  The  big  industrial 
interests  wanted  to  stifle  German  trade  and  at  the  same 
time  exact  a  huge  indemnity;  they  exploited  the  expec- 
tation of  the  working  classes  that,  as  a  result  of  victory, 
Allied  industry  would  be  given  a  fair  start  in  future 
competition  with  the  enemj^  States. 

In  the  absence  of  any  higher  guidance,  either  moral 
or  informed,  statecraft  was  entirely  lacking  in  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  Conference,  yet  the  situation  was  such 
that,  if  adroitly  handled,  measures  were  possible  which 
would  have  contributed  powerfully  to  the  security  of 
France  and  Belgium,  by  attenuating  and  dissipating 
reactionary  elements  in  the  German  Empire.  Advan- 
tage might  have  been  taken  of  the  distrust  inspired  by 
Prussia  in  the  other  German  States,  to  create  autonomous 
and  neutral  zones  in  the  Palatinate  and  the  territory 
formerly  comprised  in  the  Hauseatie  League,  to  assist 
Bavaria  to  shake  off  Prussian  hegemony,  and  become  a 
component  with  German  Austria  of  a  new  Catholic 
State  in  South-Eastem  Europe,  where  conflicting  na- 
tional aims  and  unruly  populations  needed  a  counter- 
weight. 

No  such  measures  were  taken.  The  Conference  was 
obsessed  with  details.     Every  conceivable  question  was 


1919— PEACE  CONFERENCE  AT  PARIS        171 

discussed  before  the  one  that  was  most  urgent — the  con- 
clusion of  some  form  of  peace  which  would  let  the  world 
resume  its  normal  life.  A  state  of  affairs  was  protracted 
which  encouraged  the  greedy  and  unscrupulous,  which 
checked  any  expression  of  opinion  by  the  "plain  people" 
of  President  Wilson's  speeches,  which  gave  an  opening 
to  militarists,  jingo  journalists,  and  politicians,  whose 
ideas  were  those  of  German  Junkers  and  who  still  be- 
lieved in  war. 

Jungle  law  reasserted  itself.  In  an  allegoric  sense, 
the  Conference  was  like  a  jungle  through  which  a  forest 
fire  had  passed,  destroying  the  scanty  verdure  it  had 
once  possessed,  leaving  bare,  blackened  stumps  too  hard 
to  burn.  Some  of  the  larger,  fiercer  beasts  had  been 
expelled;  a  few  remained,  and  they,  too,  had  been 
changed.  A  solitary  eagle  had  descended  from  his  dis- 
tant eyrie  and,  like  a  parrot,  screeched  incessantly, 
"Fiume,  Fiume,  Fiume" — a  chuckle  followed,  it  said — 
"Fourteen  Points"  but  this  was  an  obvious  aside.  The 
performance  was  disappointing;  polished  and  well- 
turned  phrases  had  been  expected  from  so  great  a  bird. 
The  lion's  majestic  mien  had  altered  somewhat,  his  move- 
ments were  uncertain ;  from  time  to  time  his  eyes  sought, 
furtively,  a  pack  of  jackals,  who  should  have  hunted 
with  him,  but,  of  late,  they  had  grown  insolent  to  their 
natural  leader  and  reviled  him  in  a  high-pitched,  daily 
wail.  An  old  and  wounded  tiger  roamed  about  the 
jungle;  his  strength,  so  far  from  being  impaired,  had 
become  almost  leonine;  sometimes  the  jackals  joined  fiis 
own  obedient  cubs,  and  then  he  snarled  contentedly  while 
the  lion  roared  with  jealousy  and  rage.  The  bear  was 
absent;  he  had  turned  savage  through  much  suffering, 
and  the  wolves  who  prowled  around  the  outskirts  of  the 


172  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

jungle  prevented  him  from  entering;  they  howled  with 
terror  whenever  he  approached,  and  wanted  the  lion  and 
the  tiger  to  help  to  kill  this  dangerous  type  of  bear. 
A  j^ellow  dragon  moaned  in  the  far  distance,  but  was 
unheeded ;  he  was  no  more  a  peril  and  had  little  left  for 
the  other  beasts  to  steal.  Jubilant  and  shrill,  the  crow- 
ing of  a  cock  was  heard  above  the  babel  of  the  jungle, 
announcing,  to  all  who  cared  to  listen,  the  dawn  of  fifteen 
years  of  liberty  in  the  valley  of  the  Saar. 

The  Peace  Treaties  promulgated  by  the  Conference  at 
Paris  are  impregnated  with  the  atmosphere  in  which 
they  were  drawn  up — an  atmosphere  charged  with  sus- 
picion and  hatred,  fear  and  greed;  not  one  of  them  is 
in  the  spirit  of  the  League  of  Nations.  The  Treaty 
with  Germany,  in  particular,  discloses  the  predominance 
of  French  influence  in  Allied  councils.  An  old  French 
nobleman  once  remarked,  ''Les  Bourgeois  sont  terribles 
lors  qu'ils  ont  eu  peur, "  The  conditions  imposed  on  a 
democratized  and  utterly  defeated  Germany  are  terrible 
indeed,  but  curiously  ineffective;  they  are  a  timid  at- 
tempt to  modify  vindictiveness  by  a  half-hearted  appli- 
cation of  President  Wilson 's  ethical  principles ;  they  sat- 
isfy no  one ;  this  is  their  one  redeeming  feature,  since  it 
shows  that  they  might  have  been  even  more  vindictive 
and  still  more  futile  for  the  achievement  of  their  pur- 
pose, which  was,  presumably,  a  lasting  peace.  Militarists 
and  reactionaries  could  not  conceive  a  state  of  peace 
which  did  not  repose  on  force  and  the  military  occupa- 
tion of  large  tracts  of  German  territory.  They  were 
twenty  years  behind  the  time.  They  did  not  realize 
that  armies  in  democratic  countries  consist  of  human 
beings  who  observe  and  think,  who  cannot  be  treated  as 
machines,   and  bidden  to   subordinate   their  reasoning 


1919— PEACE  CONFERENCE  AT  PARIS        173 

faculties  to  the  designs  of  a  few  selfish  and  ambitious 
men.  Liberal  thinkers,  on  the  other  hand,  were  shocked 
at  Treaties  which  inflamed  the  hearts  of  seventy  million 
German-speaking  people  with  hatred  and  a  desire  for 
revenge,  which  cemented  German  unity,  which  aroused  a 
widespread  irredentism  and  gave  an  incentive  to  indus- 
trious, efficient  populations  to  devote  their  time  and 
efforts  to  preparations  for  a  future  war  and  not  to  the 
arts  of  peace.  Such  men  were  neither  visionaries  nor 
sentimentalists,  they  were  practical  men  of  affairs,  who 
foresaw  that  security  could  not  be  attained  by  visiting 
the  sins  of  outworn  mediaeval  Governments  on  the  heads* 
of  their  innocent  victims  throughout  Central  Europe; 
that  by  the  employment  of  such  methods  the  "League 
of  Nations"  was  turned  into  a  farce;  that  exasperation 
would  foster  and  provoke  recalcitrance ;  that  Germany 
would  be  a  magnet  to  every  dissatisfied  State ;  that  other 
leagues  and  combinations  might  be  formed,  on  which 
it  would  be  impossible  to  enforce  a  limitation  of  their 
armaments.  They  pointed  out  that  the  imposition  of 
fabulous  indemnities  was  two-edged,  that  payment  of 
nine-tenths  of  the  sums  suggested  would  have  to  be 
made  in  manufactured  goods  or  raw  materials,  a  mode 
of  payment  which,  in  the  end,  might  be  more  profit- 
able to  those  that  paid  than  to  the  peoples  who  re- 
ceived. 

Inaugurated  in  an  idealism  which  may  have  been  exag- 
gerated but  was  none  the  less  sincere,  the  Peace  Confer- 
ence has  blighted  the  hope  and  faith  of  "plain  people" 
everywhere,  and  has  consecrated  cant.  Respectability 
has  been  enthroned  amid  circumstances  of  wealth  and 
power;  in  its  smug  and  unctuous  presence  morality  has 
found  no  place.     The  foundations  of  a  clearer,  better 


174  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

world  have  not  been  laid ;  the  apex  has  been  placed  on  a 
pyramid  of  errors,  on  which  nothing  can  be  built. 
*  *  #  #  # 

Versailles  was  chosen  as  the  setting  for  a  historic  cere- 
mony— the  signature  of  the  Peace  Treaty  with  what  was 
still  the  German  Empire,  though  the  imperial  throne 
was  vacant  and  a  workman  presided  at  the  councils  of 
an  Imperial  Government.  The  choice  was  not  without 
significance.  Democracy  had  triumphed,  and,  in  the 
hour  of  victory,  had  followed  the  example  of  autocratic 
rulers  when  making  peace  with  other  autocrats.  It  was 
therefore  only  fitting  that  this  Peace  Treaty,  whose  terms 
are  inspired  by  the  spirit  of  the  past,  should  be  signed 
in  a  palace  of  the  Kings  of  France. 

A  palace  on  an  artificial  eminence,  where  once  had 
been  flat  marshes  and  wild  forest  land,  built  by  a  mon- 
arch to  whom  nothing  was  impossible,  and  for  the  in- 
dulgence of  whose  whims  no  cost  was  deemed  excessive, 
either  in  money  or  in  human  lives.  Viewed  from  the 
west  on  misty  autumn  evenings,  it  seems  an  unearthly 
fabric ;  the  exquisite  harmony  of  its  line  crowns  and  com- 
pletes the  surrounding  landscape,  floating,  as  by  enchant- 
ment, above  the  tree  tops,  as  light  in  texture  as  the 
clouds.  A  palace  such  as  children  dream  of,  when  fairy 
stories  haunt  their  minds,  peopling  the  world  with 
princes  young  and  valiant,  princesses  beautiful  and  way- 
ward, whose  parents  are  virtuous  Kings  and  Queens  and 
live  in  palaces  like  Versailles. 

Below  the  terraces,  a  broad  alley  stretches  westward 
and  meets  the  horizon  at  two  poplars.  Beyond  these 
isolated  trees  an  empty  sky  is  seen.  The  poplars  stand 
like  sentinels  guarding  the  confines  of  a  vast  enclosure, 
where  art  and  nature  have  conspired  to  shut  out  the 


1919— PEACE  CONFERENCE  IN  PARIS      175 

ugly  things  in  life.  A  Frencli  Abbe,  whose  cultured 
piety  ensures  him  a  welcome  in  this  world  and  admis- 
sion to  the  next,  said  that  the  royalty  of  France  had 
passed  between  and  beyond  those  poplars — into  noth- 
ingness. 

Amid  a  galaxy  of  statues  of  monarchs,  statesmen, 
warriors,  goddesses  and  nymphs,  only  one  piece  of  sculp- 
ture serves  as  a  reminder  that  a  suffering  world  exists — 
the  face  of  a  woman  of  the  people,  graven  in  bass-relief 
upon  the  central  front.  An  old  and  tragic  face,  seamed 
with  deep  wrinkles,  sullen,  inscrutable,  one  can  imagine 
it  hunched  between  shoulders  bowed  by  toil  and  shrunk 
by  joyless  motherhood.  The  eyes  of  stone,  to  which  a 
sculptor's  art  has  given  life,  are  hard  and  menacing, 
hopeless  but  not  resigned ;  beneath  their  steadfast  gaze 
has  passed  all  that  was  splendid  in  a  bj^gone  age,  the 
greatest  autocrats  on  earth  and  women  of  quite  a  differ- 
ent sort. 

"Sceptre  and  crown  have  tumbled  down 
And  in  the  level  dust  been  laid 
With  the  poor  yokel 's  scythe  and  spade. ' '  ^ 

There  were  many  faces  in  France  and  other  countries 
which  wore  this  same  expression,  even  after  the  triumph 
of  Democracy  over  the  autocrats  of  Central  Europe. 
They  were  not  to  be  seen,  however,  on  the  terraces  of  the 
palace  when  the  Treaty  of  Peace  with  Germany  was 
signed  in  the  ''Hall  of  Mirrors,"  where  men  in  black 
were  met  together  on  yet  another  "Field  of  Blackbirds," 
where,  after  months  of  bickering,  the  larger  birds  were 
expounding  to  their  weaker  brethren  the  latest  infamies 

1  In  the  original — "Sceptre  and  crown  xoill  tumble  down, 
And  in  the  level  dust  be  laid,"  etc. 


176  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

of  Jungle  Law.  The  well-dressed  men  and  women  who 
thronged  those  terraces  were  something  between  the 
proud  aristocrats  who  created  the  legend  of  Versailles 
and  the  masses  of  the  underworld  who  have  sur- 
vived them,  and  yet  they  seemed  further  from  the  two 
extremes  than  the  extremes  were  from  each  other;  they 
were  not  of  the  stuff  of  leaders  and  were  too  prosperous 
to  be  led ;  their  manner  was  almost  timid  to  the  soldiers 
on  duty  at  this  ceremony,  who,  though  men  of  the  peo- 
ple, were  disdainful  to  civilians  after  four  years  of  war. 
One  felt  that  this  was  a  class  which  might,  at  no  distant 
date,  attempt  to  imitate  some  Roman  Emperors  and  pay 
Pretorian  Guards.  A  catastrophic  war  had  contained 
no  lesson  for  these  people ;  for  them,  its  culmination  at 
Versailles  was  far  more  a  social  than  a  political  event; 
they  took  no  interest  in  politics,  they  wanted  security 
for  property  and  a  Government  of  strong  men  who 
would  keep  the  masses  well  in  hand.  They  were  not  real 
democrats,  and  they  cheered  both  long  and  loud,  when 
the  men,  who  between  them  had  betrayed  Democracy, 
emerged  from  the  stately  palace  to  see  the  fountains 
play. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

Looking  Back  and  Forward 

Some  one  has  said  that  evolution  is  a  fact  and  progress 
a  sentiment.  This  definition  easts  a  doubt  on  progress : 
it  implies  that  progressive  thinkers  are  in  the  category 
of  sentimentalists  who  do  not  deal  in  facts. 

If  no  alternative  existed  between  looking  back  on  the 
slow  advance  of  evolution  and  looking  forward  in  a 
spirit  of  sentimental  hope,  the  present  situation  would 
be  dark  indeed;  a  pessimist  might  be  inclined  to  con- 
clude that  civilization  had  ceased  to  advance,  that,  on 
the  contrary,  its  movement  was  retrograde. 

There  is  surely  a  middle  course — a  course  not  easy 
to  pursue.  It  consists  in  standing  on  the  ground  of 
fact,  however  miry,  with  heart  and  head  uplifted,  and 
looking  forward,  with  the  determination  not  to  let  man- 
kind sink  to  the  level  of  the  beasts  that  perish,  eager  to 
reach  some  higher  ground. 

*  *  *  *  # 

Looking  back  over  the  past  seven  years,  a  reflective 
mind  is  appalled  by  their  futility  and  waste,  and  yet 
an  analysis  of  this  period  as  a  whole  reveals  that  qual- 
ity of  ruthless  logic,  of  inevitable  sequence,  to  be  found 
in  some  Greek  tragedies,  in  which  the  naked  truth  in  all 
its  horror  is  portrayed  with  supreme  dramatic  art. 

Each  phase  of  this  blood-stained  period  discloses  the 
same  carnival  of  mendacity  and  intrigue,  the  subordina- 

177 


178  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

tion  of  the  public  interest  to  the  designs  of  a  few  ambi- 
tious men,  the  exploitation  of  patriotism,  self-sacrifice, 
patience  and  valour  by  officials,  whose  inhuman  outlook 
and  mediocrity  of  mind  were  screened  by  a  mask  of 
mystery.  A  piecemeal  study  would  be  profitless.  Mili- 
tary instruction  might  be  gained  from  oft-recurring 
slaughter,  and  hints  on  how  to  hoodwink  peoples  could 
certainly  be  gathered  from  spasmodic  intervals  of  peace. 
But  these  are  not  the  lessons  the  world  seeks,  they  are 
precisely  what  it  wishes  to  forget.  Eather,  the  effort 
must  be  made  to  trace  the  underlj'ing  impulse  in  this 
tragic  drama,  which  runs  through  it  like  a  "leit-motif," 
which  welds  together  processes  so  varying  in  their  nature, 
and  renders  them  cumulative  and  inseparable,  until  they 
culminate  in  one  unified  and  comprehensive  act. 

In  its  broadest  sense,  that  impulse  had  its  source  in  a 
frame  of  mind,  in  a  false  conception,  expressed  in  out- 
worn governmental  systems  left  uncontrolled  and  toler- 
ated by  the  victims,  who,  though  suffering,  dreaded 
change.  This  frame  of  mind  was  general  throughout 
Europe;  it  was  not  confined  to  the  Central  Empires, 
whose  ruling  classes,  by  their  superior  efficiency,  merely 
offered  the  supreme  example  of  autocratic  Governments 
which  aimed  at  world-dominion  both  in  a  political  and 
economic  sense.  To  the  junkers  and  business  men  in  Ger- 
many and  Austria-Hungary,  the  war  of  liberation  in  the 
Balkans  in  1912  was  an  opportunity  to  be  seized,  with 
a  lack  of  scruple  as  cynical  as  it  was  frank,  because  they 
hoped  to  fish  in  troubled  waters;  its  pen^ersion  into  an 
internecine  struggle  was  considered  clever  diplomacy. 
The  Treaty  of  Bucharest  in  1913  was  regarded  as  a 
triumph  of  statecraft,  since  it  caused  a  readjustment  of 
the  "Balance  of  Power"  in  favour  of  themselves.     But 


LOOKING  BACK  AND  FORWARD  179 

the  so-called  democratic  Western  Powers  gave  their  tacit 
acquiescence  to  these  nefarious  proceedings;  their 
association  with  the  Russian  Empire,  so  far  from  being 
designed  to  correct  immorality  and  injustice,  perpetuated 
all  the  evils  of  a  system  based  on  interested  motives  and 
selfish  fears.  The  family  of  nations  consisted  of  six 
Great  Powers ;  Small  States  existed  under  sufferance  and 
were  treated  as  poor  relations.  Their  rights  were  nebu- 
lous and  sometimes  inconvenient,  not  to  be  recognized 
until  they  could  be  extorted.  This  happened  sometimes. 
The  "Balance  of  Power"  was  a  net  with  closely  woven 
meshes.  Even  the  strongest  carnivori  in  the  European 
jungle  required,  at  times,  the  assistance  of  a  mouse. 

Judged  by  its  conduct  of  afl'airs  in  1912  and  the  early 
part  of  1913,  the  British  Government  was  without  a 
Continental  policy ;  at  first,  it  seemed  to  favour  Austria- 
Hungary,  the  Albanian  settlement  and  the  Treaty  of 
Bucharest  were  a  triumph  for  the  ' '  Ball-Platz, ' '  ^  though 
both  these  transactions  were  shortsighted  and  unjust. 
French  policy  was  paralysed  by  fear  of  Germany,  and, 
owing  to  a  mistaken  choice  of  representatives  in  almost 
all  the  Balkan  capitals,  the  French  Foreign  Office  was 
curiously  ill-informed.  Italy  was  the  ally  of  the  Cen- 
tral Powers  and  could  not  realize  her  own  colonial  aspi- 
rations without  their  help.  Russia,  as  ever,  was  the 
enigma,  and  Russian  policy  in  the  Balkans,  though  osten- 
sibly benevolent,  aimed  at  the  reduction  of  Bulgaria  and 
Servia  to  the  position  of  vassal  States.  Rumania  was 
also  an  ally  of  the  Central  Powers.  Dynastic  and  eco- 
nomic reasons  made  her  their  client.  She  held  aloof 
from  purely  Balkan  questions,  and  posed  as  the  "Sen- 
tinel of  the  East." 

1  The  former  Austro-Hungarlan  Foreign  Office  In  Vienna. 


180  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

Under  such  conditions,  it  was  idle  to  expect  an  objec- 
tive and  reasonable,  or  even  decent,  handling  of  Balkan 
questions.  Bulgaria  was  sacrificed  ruthlessl}^  to  oppor- 
tunism and  expediency.  The  most  efficient  race  on  the 
south  bank  of  the  Danube  was  embittered  and  driven 
into  unnatural  hostility  to  Russia.  The  Balkan  bloc 
was  disrupted  by  skilful  manipulation  of  national  feel- 
ing, which  was  in  many  cases  honest  and  sincere,  and 
thus,  the  Central  Empires  were  able  to  so  dispose  the 
pawns  on  the  European  chessboard  as  to  facilitate  their 
opening'  moves,  if,  from  a  continuance  in  their 
policy  of  expansion,  there  should  ensue  a  European 
War. 

In  due  course,  as  was  inevitable,  the  "Great  War" 
came.  During  the  latter  part  of  1913  Great  Britain 
had  been  inclined  to  favour  Russia's  Balkan  policy. 
This  suited  France,  and  so  the  sides  were  set.  Through- 
out the  war,  the  British  Empire,  save  for  a  brief  and 
disastrous  experiment  at  Gallipoli,  continued  to  be  with- 
out an  Eastern  policy.  The  greatest  Mohammedan 
Power  in  the  world  allowed  itself  to  be  swayed  by  French 
and  Russian  counsels,  and  the  heritage  handed  down  and 
perfected  by  Warren  Hastings,  Clive,  and  Canning  was 
left  to  the  mercy  of  events.  No  Frenchman,  however 
gifted,  can  grasp  the  scope  and  mission  of  the  British 
Empire;  to  the  Pan-Slavs  who  directed  Russia's  foreign 
policy,  our  far-flung  supremacy  in  the  East  was  an  ob- 
ject of  envy  and  a  stumbling  block. 

Although  the  Balkan  States,  while  they  remained 
neutral,  were  courted  assiduously  by  the  Allied  Powers, 
they  were  still  looked  upon  as  pawns.  A  policy 
which  can  only  be  described  as  unprincipled  was  pur- 
sued.    British  prestige  became  the  tool  of  French  and 


LOOKING  BACK  AND  FORWARD  181 

Russian  intrigue,  and  Great  Britain's  reputation  for 
tenacity,  justice  and  fair  play  was  jeopardized, 

Rumania,  once  she  became  our  ally,  was  treated  as 
a  dependency  of  Russia,  although  the  most  superficial 
student  of  the  past  history  of  these  two  States  could 
have  foreseen  her  fate.  But  she,  like  Servia  and  Greece, 
was  only  a  little  country  and  counted  as  small  dust  in 
the  balance.  She  could  be  over-run  and  devastated,  once 
she  had  plaj^ed  her  part;  that  was  a  little  country's  lot. 
The  frame  of  mind  which,  subconsciously  perhaps,  pos- 
sessed the  French  and  British  Governments  was  not  so 
unlike  that  of  the  actively  vicious  autocratic  Empires; 
they,  too,  relied  on  experts  and  officials,  to  whom  Small 
States  and  helpless  peoples  were  negligible  factors,  who 
respected  only  force  and  wealth,  who  viewed  human 
affairs  exclusively  from  those  standpoints,  and,  wrapped 
in  a  mantle  of  self-satisfaction,  as  ignorant  of  psychology 
as  of  true  statesmanship,  could  not  perceive  the  portents 
of  the  times. 

It  is  possible  that  historians  of  the  future  will  select 
three  events  as  the  outstanding  features  of  the  "Great 
World  War ' ' :  the  participation  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  the  Russian  Revolution,  and  the  collapse  of  the 
German  Military  System.  The  first  of  these  was,  un- 
doubtedly, an  expression  of  idealism.  Cynics  may  say 
that  America  was  influenced  by  self-interest,  but  they 
invariably  judge  humanity  by  their  own  worldly  stand- 
ards. The  "plain  people"  of  America  were  inspired 
by  nobler  sentiments;  the  measure  of  their  sincerity  in 
the  cause  of  liberty  is  their  present  disillusionment, 
caused  by  the  failure  of  democratic  Governments  to  make 
a  democratic  peace.  The  intervention  of  America  un- 
doubtedly ensured  and  accelerated  the  final  triumph  of 


182  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

the  AUies;  but  it  did  more  than  that,  it  solidarized 
democracy  for  a  brief  period,  aud  demonstrated  the  will- 
ingness of  free  people  to  sacrifice  their  lives  and  money 
for  an  unworldly  cause.  It  was,  to  a  great  extent,  an 
Anglo-Saxon  movement,  and  opened  up,  till  then,  un- 
dreamt of  vistas;  it  was  a  light  which,  although  a  tran- 
sient gleam,  lit  up  the  way  for  the  regeneration  of  the 
world. 

The  Russian  Revolution  was  the  outcome  of  misgov- 
emment  by  a  corrupt  bureaucracy,  and  the  passionate 
desire  of  an  exhausted,  suffering  population  for  a  re- 
turn to  peace.  Misconceived  by  the  rest  of  Europe  and 
misdirected  by  Kerensky,  it  degenerated  into  civil  war; 
yet  it  did  prove  that  even  the  most  down-trodden  people 
possess  the  power  and  instinct  of  self -liberation. 

The  collapse  of  the  German  Military  Sj^stem  removed 
a  formidable  barrier  to  human  progress.  Its  efficiency, 
as  an  administrative  and  national  institution,  had 
seemed  to  justify  the  glorification  of  the  State  at  the 
expense  of  individual  freedom;  a  dangerous  example 
had  been  set  which  militarists  in  every  land  took  as  a 
model  and  a  guide.  Had  Germany  been  ruled  by  states- 
men, this  odious  system  might  have  gained  a  further 
lease  of  life ;  by  a  fortunate  fatality  it  became  the  in- 
strument of  its  own  destruction,  it  was  the  sword  on 
which  Old  Europe  fell,  its  very  excellence  caused  that 
finely  tempered  blade  to  last  until  it  broke  into  a  thou- 
sand pieces,  thereby  providing  a  conclusive  revelation 
of  the  futility  of  force. 

Events  so  portentous  should  have  influenced  the  minds 
of  delegates  who  were  worthy  of  the  name  of  statesmen, 
when  they  met  to  make  the  Peace  at  Paris.  Unfortu- 
nately, this  was  not  the  case.     The  same  frame  of  mind 


LOOKING  BACK  AND  FORWARD         183 

permeated  the  Conference  as  that  which  had  existed 
before  and  throughout  the  war.  Small  States  and  peo- 
ples everywhere  were  sacrificed  to  the  interests  of  the 
greater  victorious  Powers,  whose  spokesmen  were  the 
representatives  and  members  of  a  propertied  and  priv- 
ileged class.  Two  fears  were  ever  present  in  their 
minds:  Germany,  the  monster  python  State,  had  com- 
mitted suicide,  and  thus  had  brought  them  victory,  but 
this  victory  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected  that  they 
could  hardly  understand  its  meaning.  They  imagined 
that  following  on  it  would  come  a  swift  reaction,  that 
the  old  system  would  revive;  in  fact,  they  half  hoped 
that  it  would,  it  conjured  up  less  disturbing  visions  than 
this  revolt  of  a  warlike,  disciplined  people,  this  abrupt 
transition  from  the  old  order  to  the  new.  Even  victory 
had  lost  its  savour ;  it  seemed  to  them  a  source  of  danger 
that  the  most  evil  Government  should  fall,  and  so  they 
set  to  work  to  recreate  the  bogy  of  German  militarism 
with  propaganda's  artful  aid.  The  other  bogy  was  the 
dread  that  a  communistic  experiment  might  succeed  in 
Russia.  Rather  than  let  that  happen,  they  were  one  and 
all  prepared  to  wage  another  war. 

Either  from  vanity  or  jealousy,  the  four  heads  of  the 
Governments  of  the  Allied  and  Associated  States  ap- 
pointed themselves  as  principal  delegates  at  the  Con- 
ference, in  spite  of  the  fact  that  their  presence  was  essen- 
tial in  their  respective  countries,  where  a  host  of  meas- 
ures dealing  with  social  legislation  were  already  long 
overdue.  Further,  their  incompetence  and  unsuitability 
for  the  task  before  them  were  manifest,  and  yet,  beyond 
their  decisions,  there  could  be  no  appeal.  Each  of  the 
Big  Four  had,  at  one  time  or  another,  reached  place 
and  power  as  a  tribune  of  the  people,  but  when  they 


184  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

met  in  Paris  they  had  undergone  a  change.  Mr.  Lloyd 
George  had  sold  his  soul  for  a  mess  of  pottage,  in  the 
shape  of  a  Parliamentary  majority  secured  by  truckling 
to  reactionaries  and  the  vulgar  clamour  of  the  Jingo 
Press.  Mr.  Wilson  failed-  to  make  good  his  eloquent 
professions  as  an  apostle  of  democracy;  he  succumbed 
to  the  atmosphere  of  Paris^  and  only  succeeded  in  irri- 
tating Italy  without  establishing  the  principles  for  which 
he  was  supposed  to  stand.  With  two  such  men  in  charge 
of  Anglo-Saxon  policy,  the  triumph  of  M.  Clemenceau  ^ 
was  not  left  long  in  doubt.  He  could  count  in  advance 
on  the  support  of  capitalist  elements  in  Great  Britain 
and  the  United  States;  and  thus,  the  power  and  wealth 
of  the  British  Empire  and  America  were  used  by  an 
aged  Frenchman  as  a  stick  to  beat  helpless,  starving 
peoples  and  to  slake  a  Latin  craving  for  revenge.  A 
shameful  role,  indeed,  for  a  race  which  has  never  known 
ultimate  defeat  and  has  always  been  magnaminous  in  the 
hour  of  victory. 

Mr.  Lloyd  George  and  President  Wilson  took  back  to 
their  respective  countries  a  settlement  of  European  ques- 
tions of  which  no  sensible  English-speaking  citizen  could 
possibly  approve.  It  was  at  best  a  liquidation  of  the 
war  and  marked  an  intermediate  phase.  The  Austro- 
Hungarian  Empire,  as  an  administrative  and  economic 
unit,  has  been  destroyed,  but  no  serious  attempt  was 
made  to  put  anything  practical  in  its  place ;  Eastern 
and  Central  Europe  have  been  Balkanized,  and  in  the 
Balkans  the  evils  of  the  Treaty  of  Bucharest  have  been 
consummated;  frontiers  and  disabilities  have  been  im- 

1  During  the  Conference,  a  ■well-known  Pole,  whose  reputation  for 
shrewd  observation  is  established,  remarked  :  "Mr.  Lloyd  George  has  a 
passion  for  popularity  and  is  the  most  popular  man  in  Paris,  but  the 
'Tiger'  is  running  the  British  Empire." 


LOOKING  BACK  AND  FORWARD         185 

posed  upon  the  German  people  which  have  aroused  a 
widespread  irredentism  and  cannot  be  maintained;  the 
policy  of  intervention  against  the  Soviet  Government 
in  Russia  has  been  immoral  and  inept,  while  the  vac- 
illation in  regard  to  Turkey  cannot  fail  to  have 
serious  repercussion  throughout  the  whole  Mohammedan 
world. 

A  state  of  moral  anarchy  has  been  created,  both  in  the 
conquered  and  victorious  States.  In  France,  sane  opin- 
ion is  unable  to  control  the  activities  of  roving  generals 
obsessed  with  the  Napoleonic  legend ;  in  the  United  States 
the  general  tendency  is  to  leave  Europe  to  its  fate,  but 
disgust  with  European  diplomatic  methods  has  not  pre- 
vented certain  forms  of  imitation;  in  Great  Britain, 
irresponsible  politicians  have  brought  discredit  on  our 
Parliamentary  system,  the  House  of  Commons  does  not 
represent  the  more  serious  elements  in  the  coun- 
try, labour  is  restless  and  dissatisfied,  and  even  mod- 
erate men  are  tempted  to  resort  to  unconstitutional 
methods,  to  "direct  action,"  as  the  only  means  of  ob- 
taining recognition  for  the  workers'  reasonable  demands. 

The  decisions  of  the  Supreme  Council  of  the  Allies 
are  without  any  moral  sanction,  because,  owing  to  its 
past  acts,  the  moral  sense  of  the  entire  world  is  blunted. 
Despair  and  misery  prevail  throughout  Central  and 
Eastern  Europe;  around  and  beyond  the  main  centres  of 
infection,  the  poison  is  spreading  to  the  world's  remotest 
parts;  India  and  Northern  Africa  are  filled  with  vague 
but  menacing  unrest.  When  the  lassitude  of  war  is 
passed,  more  serious  developments  must  be  expected: 
D'Annunzio  and  Bermondt  are  but  the  forerunners  of 
many  similar  adventurers  who,  both  in  Europe  and  in 
Asia,  will  find  followers  and  funds. 


186  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

Truly,  Old  Europe  has  committed  suicide.  The  auto- 
cratic Empires  have  perished  by  the  sword ;  the  Western 
States,  under  the  rule  of  spurious  democrats,  bid  fair 
to  perish  by  the  Peace.  Democracy  has  been  betrayed 
by  its  own  ignorance  and  apathy,  by  misplaced  confi- 
dence in  mediocre  men,  by  failure  to  be  democratic,  by 
permitting  politicians  and  officials  to  usurp  the  people's 
sovereign  power. 

A  new  danger  is  on  the  horizon.  The  men  who 
scoffed  at  progress,  who  at  first  derided  the  League  of 
Nations,  and  to  whose  influence  were  due  the  prolonga- 
tion of  the  Armistice  and  the  worst  features  of  the 
Treaties,  are  alarmed  by  the  present  situation.  The 
official  mind  is  seeking  for  a  remedy,  and  it  now  pro- 
fesses to  have  found  it  in  the  "League  of  Nations,"  to 
which  it  does  lip-service,  meaning  to  use  it,  in  the  first 
place,  as  a  buffer,  and  later  as  an  instrument.  These 
men  do  not  recognize  that  with  the  downfall  of  the  auto- 
cratic Empires  materialism  in  its  most  efficient  form  has 
proved  a  failure;  the  fallen  fortunes  of  Germany,  Aus- 
tria-Hungary, and  Russia  convey  no  warning  to  them. 
They  think  that  once  again  the  public  can  be  tricked. 
They  have  made  a  German  peace  and  are  so  blind  to 
facts  that,  in  spite  of  the  testimony  of  Ludendorff,  they 
do  not  realize  that  victory  was  gained  by  peoples,  who 
were  unconquerable  because  they  thought  their  cause 
was  just.  Theirs  is  the  frame  of  mind  of  German 
"Junkers";  to  them  the  masses  are  like  cattle  to  be 
driven  in  a  herd;  they  will,  if  given  a  free  rein,  once 
more  subserve  the  interests  of  capitalists,  and  Govern- 
ments will  be  influenced  by  men  who,  having  great  pos- 
sessions, take  counsel  of  selfish  fears. 

A  League  which  includes  Liberia  and  excludes  6er- 


LOOKING  BACK  AND  FORWARD         187 

many,  Austria,  Hungary  and  Russia,  and  whose  covenant 
is  embodied  in  the  Peace  Treaties,  makes  a  bad  start. 
The  intention  has  been  expressed  of  inviting  Germany, 
at  some  future  date,  to  become  a  member  of  the  League. 
Whether  this  invitation  will  be  accepted  will  depend  on 
circumstances;  in  Europe's  present  state  of  instability 
the  omens  are  far  from  favourable  to  acceptance.  A 
truly  democratic  Germany  will  be  a  tremendous  force  in 
Europe,  and  may  find  in  Russia,  under  a  Soviet  Gov- 
ernment, an  ally  more  in  sympathy  with  progress  than 
either  Great  Britain  or  the  Latin  Powers  under  reac- 
tionary governments.  The  Russians,  once  our  allies, 
regard  the  French  and  British  with  hatred  and  resent- 
ment, and  these  same  feelings  animate  all  the  nationali- 
ties on  whom  have  been  forced  insulting  terms  of  Peace. 
Poland,  Czecho-Slovakia,  Yougo-Slavia  and  the  Greater 
Rumania  are  political  experiments.  These  States  con- 
tain men  of  great  ability,  who  may,  in  the  abstract,  ac- 
cept the  principles  of  the  League,  but  their  position  is 
neither  safe  nor  easy ;  in  no  single  case  can  national  aspi- 
rations obtain  full  satisfaction  without  impinging  on  the 
territorj^  of  a  neighbour,  on  each  and  every  frontier  fixed 
in  Paris  there  is  a  pocket  in  dispute.  It  is  doubtful 
whether  any  of  the  small  Allied  States  can  be  considered 
trustworthy  members  of  a  League,  which,  while  preach- 
ing internationalism,  has  perverted  nationalism  into  a 
"will  to  power,"  for  which  conditions  of  membership 
are  defined  by  conquerors,  whose  conduct  hitherto  has 
revealed  an  entire  lack  of  an  international  spirit,  save 
in  regard  to  international  finance.  So  many  tempta- 
tions to  recalcitrance  exist  that,  if  Germany  remains 
outside  the  League,  another  combination  might  be 
formed,  under  German  leadership,  and  including  Russia, 


188  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

Austria,  Hungary,  Greater  Roumania  and  Bul- 
garia. A  combination  untrammelled  by  self-denying  or- 
dinances, compact,  almost  continuous,  controlling  the 
land  routes  of  two  continents.  No  limitation  of  its  arma- 
ments could  be  enforced  on  such  a  combination ;  it  would 
have  access  to  Russia's  vast  natural  resources,  and,  if 
war  came,  for  the  first  time  in  history,  a  coalition  of 
belligerent  States  would  be  impervious  to  blockade  by 
sea. 

While  the  Treaties  stand,  and  while  the  present  frame 
of  mind  of  the  Allied  Governments  continues,  such  is 
the  situation  into  which  the  world  is  drifting,  and  for 
which  the  Covenant  of  the  League,  as  drafted,  provides 
no  panacea.  Even  the  leading  members  of  that  League 
are  dubious  adherents  to  its  moral  implications ;  each  of 
them  makes  some  reservation,  not  based  on  the  prin- 
ciples of  progress,  but  inspired  by  a  distorted  sense  of 
patriotism  which,  in  its  essence,  is  the  outcome  and  cult 
of  private  interests. 

The  League  of  Nations  was  unfortunate  in  its  birth- 
place. Throughout  the  Conference  the  frenzied  merri- 
ment in  Paris  was  characteristic  of  the  cosmopolitan  class 
which  has  grown  up  in  an  industrial  age.  These  para- 
sites on  the  wealth  of  nations  possess  neither  the  spirit  of 
nohless  oblige  nor  any  sympathy  -wdth  the  masses,  and  yet 
they  influence  affairs;  they  appear  light  and  frivolous, 
as  though  they  had  no  interest  in  life  beyond  dancing 
and  feasting  on  the  ruins  of  Old  Europe,  and  deadening 
reflection  with  the  discords  of  jazz  bands ;  but  behind 
these  puppets  in  the  show  are  cold  and  calculating  men, 
who  use  "Society"  and  the  atmosphere  it  creates  to 
kill  enthusiasm,  to  fetter  and  sensualize  weaker  minds. 
After  listening  to  the  conversation  at  a  semi-official  and 


LOOKING  BACK  AND  FORWARD         189 

fashionable  gathering  last  June  in  Paris,  a  French  priest 
pronounced  the  opinion  that  only  a  second  redemption 
could  save  the  world.  This  old  man  was  always  char- 
itable in  his  judgments,  he  had  heard  the  confessions 
of  many  sinners,  but  he  was  roused  to  moral  indigna- 
tion by  the  heartless  cynicism  of  the  talk  around  him; 
his  feelings  as  a  Christian  had  been  outraged,  and,  al- 
though the  remark  was  made  simply  and  without  affec- 
tation, it  rang  like  the  denunciation  of  a  prophet,  the 
speaker's  kind  eyes  kindled  and  his  small,  frail  body 
seemed  to  grow  in  size.  My  mind  went  back  to  the 
Cathedral  Church  at  Jassy  one  Easter  Eve.  There,  for 
a  time,  had  reigned  the  proper  spirit;  it  had  been  fugi- 
tive, like  ail  such  moods.  As  Renan  says:  "On  n'aiteint 
I'ideal  qu'un  moment."'^ 

If  Europe  is  not  to  relapse  into  a  race  of  armaments, 
world  politics  must  be  controlled  by  forces  less  selfish 
and  insidious.  A  more  serious  element  is  required  in 
public  life,  an  element  which  will  represent  the  innumer- 
able men  and  women  who  work  with  their  hands  and 
brains.  These  are  the  people  who  desire  peace,  who  find 
and  seek  no  profit  in  a  state  of  war.  They  are  neither 
revolutionaries  nor  faddists,  they  are  workers;  they 
protest  against  the  Treaties  as  a  flagrant  violation  of 
all  principles  of  right,  as  an  attempt  to  crush  the  spirit 
of  the  conquered  peoples,  to  visit  the  crimes  of 
"irresponsible  Governments"  on  the  heads  of  innocents; 
they  denounce  a  policy  in  Russia  which  makes  the 
Russian  people  pariahs,  and  despise  the  men  who,  before 
peace  had  been  ratified  with  Germany,  invited  collabora- 
tion in  the  blockade  of  Russia  from  the  men  they  had 
called  the  Huns. 

1  The  ideal   is  reached  for  a  moment  only. 


190  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

A  great  fact  in  evolution  has  occurred,  and  now  man- 
kind is  at  the  parting  of  the  ways.  Those  who  await  a 
miracle  or  a  hero  to  save  them  from  themselves  are  un- 
worthy citizens  and  use  an  idle  form  of  speech  when 
they  talk  of  a  new  world.  Old  Europe's  suicide  will 
culminate  in  world-wide  chaos,  unless  Democracy  asserts 
itself  and  counsels  of  wisdom  and  sanity  prevail. 

Time  presses.  The  reaction  of  foreign  policy  on  the 
internal  affairs  of  every  State  is  becoming  increasingly 
direct.  Peace  Treaties  have  been  signed,  but  slaughter 
and  terrorism  continue.  In  Central  Europe,  great 
rivers,  which  are  serene  and  splendid  highways,  are 
still  defiled  with  human  blood,  still  serve  as  barriers  and 
are  charged  with  sighs.  The  old  discredited  methods  of 
' '  Secret  Diplomacy ' '  are  being  followed  and  the  destinies 
of  peoples  are  still  at  the  mercy  of  officials  who  deal  in 
bargains  and  transactions.  In  Great  Britain  and 
France,  both  in  the  Press  and  Parliament,  reactionary 
forces  have  got  the  upper  hand.  As  a  consequence, 
trade  is  paralysed,  and  human  misery  exists  on  an  un- 
precedented scale. 

While  these  conditions  last,  peace  will  be  precarious. 
But  the  next  war  will  not  be  made  by  nations ;  it  will  be 
civil  war,  the  misgoverned  will  rise  against  their  rulers 
and  the  foundations  of  our  social  fabric  will  rock.  The 
workers  in  all  lands  have  realised,  at  last,  that  their 
interests  are  the  same,  and  that  the  greatest  war  in 
history  was,  from  their  point  of  view,  an  internecine 
struggle.  Only  the  purblind  or  the  reckless  ignore  this 
fact. 

But,  portentous  as  it  is,  this  fact  is  the  one  redeeming 
feature  of  the  present  situation,  since  it  is  the  expression 


LOOKING  BACK  AND  FORWARD  191 

01  a  change  of  spirit,  and  the  first  step  towards  more 
rational  relationships  between  the  nations.  Despair 
would  be  justified  indeed  if  pride  and  prejudce  and 
greed  permeated  the  masses  as  they  do  the  classes,  if 
the  doctrines  preached  by  Jingo  newspapers  or  the 
conversation  in  certain  classes  of  society  were 
correct  indices  of  the  thoughts  and  ideals  of  our  gener- 
ation. 

Fortunately,  this  is  not  the  case.  Five  years  of  war 
have  been  a  purifying  blood-bath,  they  have  taught 
innumerable  men  and  women,  through  suffering,  to 
think. 

A  clamour  of  voices  has  arisen;  their  cry  is  ''For- 
ward ' '  and  is  uttered  by  millions  of  exasperated  people, 
become  articulate  since  the  war.  From  every  quarter 
comes  the  tramp  of  hurrying  feet,  a  mighty  movement 
is  in  progress.  It  cannot,  like  "sleeping  waters,"  be 
pent  up,  but  its  purpose  is  not  destructive.  It  seeks  a 
useful  outlet  for  a  vast  store  of  human  energy,  a  freer, 
wider  life  for  manual  workers,  too  long  the  victims  of 
exploitation,  whose  hearts  and  hands  are  needed  to  turn 
the  new  world's  mill. 

All  lovers  of  freedom  are  in  this  movement ;  they  are 
of  every  race  and  creed  and  possess  the  true  inter- 
national spirit,  whose  aim  is  progress.  Not  progress 
towards  some  impossible  Utopia,  where  human  nature 
plays  no  part,  but  progress  by  ordered  stages  towards  a 
more  reasonable  social  system,  wherein  the  few  will  not 
exploit  the  many  and  unscrupulous  efficiency  will  be 
held  in  cheek ;  wherein  idealism  will  count  a  little  and 
mankind,  taught  by  adversity,  will  no  longer  wish  to  be 
deceived ;  wherein  '  *  plain  people, ' '  however  humble,  will 


192  OLD  EUROPE'S  SUICIDE 

shake  off  the  shackles  of   apathy  and  indifference  to 
moral  issues,  and  claim  their  birth-right. 

Egyptian  monarchs  built  pyramids  as  tombs.  Old 
Europe,  during  the  process  of  its  suicide,  built  up  a 
pyramid  of  errors  which  may  well  serve,  not  only  as 
the  tomb  of  mediaeval  systems,  of  false  conceptions,  but 
also  as  a  monument  to  remind  succeeding  generations  of 
the  errors  of  the  past. 

A  pyramid  is  a  structure  whose  form  is  final,  just 
bare,  blank  walls  converging  to  a  point,  and  there  it 
ends,  offering  a  symbol  of  that  human  pride  which  dares 
to  set  a  limit  to  the  progress  of  mankind. 

Progress  admits  of  no  finality.  Filled  with  the  senti- 
ment of  progress  and  standing  on  the  ground  of  fact, 
humanity  can  look  forward  and  ever  upward,  and  thus 
can  rear  a  nobler  edifice — a  temple  broad-based  on  lib- 
erty and  justice,  whose  columns  are  poised  on  sure 
foundations,  columns  that  soar  and  spring  eternal,  em- 
blems of  youth  and  hope. 


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